Beyond the Shadow of a Doubt
by Ally823
Summary: After a grisly massacre led by none other than SG-1 itself, Sam leaves Earth to make peace with what she’s done. Fate has other ideas, however, and drops her into the mercy of a bitter, aging man, whose heir turns out to have a deadly grudge against SG-1.
1. Prologue: Whisper

**Title:**_ Beyond the Shadow of a Doubt_

**Summary:**_ After a grisly massacre led by none other than SG-1 itself, Sam leaves Earth to make peace with what she's done. Fate has other ideas, however, and drops her into the mercy of a bitter, aging man whose heir turns out to have a deadly grudge against SG-1._

**Spoilers:**The Ark of Truth_; SG-1 Season 10 and pieces of _Atlantis_ Seasons 4 and 5 are fair game._

**Disclaimer:**_ Me? Own SG-1? No. But I do own the plot to this story. Yay me!_

**A/N:** _Two main things of note: First, this story was completely spontaneous, so some bits of the plot will have kinks to work out. I appreciate any and all help I can receive with this._

_Second, I've pretty much completely rewritten the chapters because the level I started this and the level I'm at now are extremely different. You will notice (if you've already read this story) that everything is longer and the chapter titles are different. I'll explain my methods for the renaming at the end of the prologue._

_If this is your first visit, then all of this A/N is nothing more than the ramblings of a slightly insane student. Nothing more…I never reconstructed anything…._

* * *

**Prologue**

**Whisper**

Sam clenched her teeth as sharp brambles caught and tore clothing as skin in one snatch. The brambles didn't seem to care that both skin and clothes were already worn and torn from others of their kind.

Hesitating in her mad dash, she listened for the sounds of pursuit and almost paid for the lack of movement; she was definitely still being followed. She whispered a silent prayer that she would have the endurance to out run those that chased her. The prayer was more out of old habit than any sort of hope of being answered; she had long since given up hope of a good higher power existing.

Even without the prayer, it wasn't like Sam lacked stamina. She hadn't been putting it to much use for awhile, but it couldn't have faded that badly. Unfortunately, the well-trained and armed soldiers behind her had most likely been putting their stamina to good use before they had come it pursuit of her.

Why was that? Sam had no answer. She had done nothing to draw attention to herself while she had been living on this planet, and she had no real enemies here as far as she knew. All that aside, the only reason she was even running _now_ was to get the armed and dangerous soldiers away from the village that was sheltering her. If they had offered the homes to someone like her, then she owed them far more than acting as a simple decoy.

While she was asking herself questions, Sam briefly wondered where the sweet elderly woman named Harädna had fled to. Harädna was the one who took Sam under her roof and basically forced her to _live_ for the past two and a half months. She owed the older woman so, so much for her kindness, but the last Sam had seen of her was Harädna's frightened expression as six men quickly approached the garden she and Harädna were tending.

As soon as they had made their intent clear, Sam ran. And ran. As far as she knew, all six men were currently storming the forest behind her and none of them had caused harm to anyone in the village.

Sam sent up another prayer for Harädna's safety. It wasn't that she didn't believe in a higher power, she decided. If she were a higher power, she wouldn't want to listen to herself either. She deserved no mercy.

Shirking away from negative thoughts, Sam pressed deeper into the hostile undergrowth. Negativity would cause her to slow down; it was a luxury she could not afford.

Her precaution came too late. Breath drew short as anything and everything plantlike did its very best to hinder her progress. She grimaced when she realized the beautiful handiwork that used to be her white tunic and blue breeches would be destroyed by the end of this venture. After the initial strain began, her lungs started a slow but insistent protest against the pace she had set.

In order to keep herself focused, Sam emptied her mind, but images surfaced after awhile. The unwelcome one of Barrett was among the very first. Her stomach clenched in bitterness and anger, shame and guilt. His was followed by a myriad of others, equally, if not more so, unwelcome. Using the pain such images invoked, she pretended her pursuers were the very memories she sought to run from. Mildly renewed energy filled her legs.

It wasn't the first time she'd run.

By her reckoning, it was about four months ago she had forsaken the planet that had become nothing short of a living hell for her. As soon as she had had the means, Sam had taken the first wormhole away from Earth. And another, and another. For nearly two months she gated to as many unexplored planets as possible, desperately searching for one she could settle down in and simply _exist_. Then again, maybe die, instead. Most days, death seemed like the better alternative.

In any case, Earth wasn't safe anymore. Abandoning her team only added to the torment she felt, but she knew that pain would follow regardless of whether or not she brought them with. In the end, she'd had to settle on herself. A glance at one of them was like taking another bullet in the heart, so she chose to leave them behind. Besides, what was one more reason to feel guilty? She already wanted to die, so there wasn't much farther for her to fall.

No matter what, she had never been able to escape the nightmares. At first, maybe for a week or so, she had been plagued with insomnia. Soon, guilt eased enough of its hold on her that she was allowed to sleep again.

Then the nightmares began. Nightmares in such vivid detail it was all she could do most nights, after being shot into wakefulness, to not to relive both horrible experiences in every acute and gruesome detail.

It made her wish for the nights of dull insomnia. At least before the nightmares, she could pretend to think about other things.

Sam had become so wrapped up in her memories that she failed to notice the almost entirely vertical rock wall that loomed in front of her until she nearly collided with it. Not knowing what else to do, but understanding she was also more or less at the end of her rope, she began a desperate and vain climb upward. Or downward, since for every foot up, it felt like she went two back.

Suddenly, hands were one her shoulders and arms, forcibly pivoting her away from the rock face. One man held her in a tight grip from behind, which meant she really had no choice but to stare at the guy who could only be the leader.

Under the stare of such cold, grey eyes, Sam, to her horror, felt self-conscious about her ragged appearance. Although _why_ she felt that way was beyond her; she had been less than worried about her clothes, hair, and general wellbeing up until this point. Most likely, the uneasiness probably had something to do with the fact she could just picture how pathetic and weak she must look.

It didn't help that, while she was weaponless, these men were armed only with daggers and long-knives. Not that weapons were necessary; the soldier pinning her had used good old-fashioned brute strength to subdue her.

The leader slowly approached her in a way that oozed confidence. When he was about a foot away, he reached out and grabbed a handful of hair. Dispassionately, he used the hair as leverage to pull her head back so he could look at her face better. Gazing into his eyes—there wasn't many other places to stare at—she couldn't believe how icy the look in his eyes was; she had seen more warmth in an enemy Jaffa's face.

"As much as I hate to say this," he said, "I think there's been a mistake."

A blonde haired man asked, "Wait, does that mean you're letting her go? At the very least—"

Grey-Eyes held up a hand, causing Blondie to fall silent. "I won't kill her, but I don't think she should be allowed to go free if I'm wrong. You should be well aware that I refuse to take another's life," he added, "unless absolutely necessary or justified. Her death would be neither, so I believe we should take her back to Lord Raimak so that he can be the judge."

Blondie nodded.

"Hey," grunted Sam, "are the villagers alright?" Just because Sam was the apparent target did not mean the village had to suffer, too. Hopefully she hadn't just made the villagers targets by showing sentiment toward them.

Grey-Eyes released her hair, raised an eyebrow, and backhanded her. Startled, she flinched, cheek stinging. "As our new prisoner," he growled, "you will not speak unless spoken to. Is that understood?"

Though his tone implied he did not expect a response to the rhetorical question, she still answered, "Crystal," in a very Jack-esque manner. This did not please Grey-Eyes all that much but as she _had_ technically obeyed him, there wasn't a lot he could do in retaliation unless he was interested in a petty argument.

"Furthermore, as prisoner, you will be restrained. While we travel, only your arms will be tied as none of us will carry you for the next week or so. When we rest, the bindings will be switched to your feet because we also will not be hand feeding or watering you. One of my men will be in charge of watching you at all times. Do not resist, or I will be forced to respond. Lord Raimak is unaware of the change in orders, and if necessary, he never will be if you do something that warrants death. That being said, I hope this makes you realize I am a _very_ unpleasant enemy, and it would be in your best interest to follow instruction. Keep in mind that killing a person is rarely the first punishment I resort to. Is _that_ understood?"

Sam glared at him, mouth clamped tightly shut. Even without speaking, she still managed to convey she did in fact understand Grey-Eyes's threats and whatnot.

True to his word, her arms were swiftly tied (behind her back, which was distinctly uncomfortable) and one of his men attached a second rope to the one around her hands and wrists so as to make something similar to a leash.

"Let's go," Grey-Eyes said. Sam's guard gave her a shove in the direction his leader intended to travel.

_Well this is going to be fun,_ Sam thought, trying hard not to resent her situation, which was probably just Fate's way of balancing the evils in a person's life. With a sigh, she followed Blondie, who was behind Grey-Eyes, and resigned herself to her due punishment.

* * *

**A/N 2:**_Like it? Dislike it? Either way, this is what I have to offer now. Hopefully it's an improvement._

_As for the chapter titles, instead of wracking my brain for more corny garbage, I decided to use song titles (original, right?). The song in question will usually have a theme in common with something in the chapter, though that won't always be the case. Often, only part of the song will have something in common with the chapter. Regardless, that's what's happening, and as a disclaimer/informative-thingy, I'll mention the artist at the end of the chapters. That way y'alls can be like, "Oh! I know that one. That's a great song," or you can look it up for fun if you don't know it. Whatever floats your boat._

**A/N 3:**_ Whisper is by Evanescence._

**R&R**


	2. Chapter 1: Traveling

**Chapter 1**

**Traveling**

From the moment of her capture, Sam's first day and night was a good preview of daily life until she arrived at the home of "Lord Raimak."

The guard on the last watch woke everyone about five in the morning, by Sam's reckoning. They seven of them would eat a very quick breakfast before setting off at a brisk pace. It was fairly difficult for Sam to keep up. Her hands were tightly bound behind her back and nothing but deer trails cut through the thick foliage. Even so, "Grey Eyes" seemed confidently aware of how to traverse the forest and its maze of trails.

Their march would continue ceaselessly until around midday. Evin called a halt and he and his men immediately set up a very temporary camp, save for the guard who watched Sam. Personally, she thought it was pointless to set a watch for her. Where would she run? It's not like she knew the area, and she was bound in a way that did not agree with racing through the tangled undergrowth, deer trails or no.

After the noon break, Evin had them take down their camp and they began another trek. This continued until dusk. One man watched Sam, which was of course such a huge surprise, while the other five went about their camp duties. Usually this meant that one would work on the fire, another would begin preparing dinner, and the other three plotted that night's watch.

Grey Eyes, known more commonly as Evin, was the leader and he took equal part in every chore but watching Sam. Not that she was having any problem with that. He had an unprovoked loathing for her so that whenever he did lower himself to talk to her, he was snide and about as friendly as a rabid bear.

All in all, the first night was almost a blessing to Sam. Yes, she was tired and both her hands and feet ached, but it was the first time in what felt like ages that she made it through an entire night without a single nightmare.

When she awoke the next morning, however, she reconsidered her appreciation of the previous day's abuses. Her arms and legs were so stiff and sore it was all she could do to stand up and trudge on. Fortunately, her muscles decided to loosen up for the most part before noon.

She was glad when Evin called an early halt. With nothing better to do than pick a place to sit and be bored, Sam decided to observe her new captors.

First and foremost was Evin, the leader. Sam guessed he was around thirty-five, which seemed to be the general age of his team. He was relatively thin, though he leaned more toward the muscular side. High cheekbones bordered a straight nose and full lips. His skin was naturally pale, hair dark and short, and eyes a dark stormy grey. His complexion reminded Sam a lot of someone from an old black and white picture.

Though most of the men worked as a single unit, Sam had been a second-in-command long enough to figure out who held the position in this team. He was tall and lanky with a mess of blonde hair, stunning light blue eyes, and an ever-present good nature. It had taken a few hours the previous day, but Sam found out that his name was Tíllin. If any of Evin's group could be called a potential ally, it was this man. His kind personality endeared him to his team and Sam herself decided he was pretty difficult to hold a grudge against for long; though she was supposed to be his captive, Tíllin made a genuine effort to make small talk during what little rest time they were allotted.

Derak and Gerrad were twins. They were both tall and well-built with auburn hair that gave off a healthy sheen in sunlight. The thing that set them apart from any other twins Sam had met—which was decidedly few—was their eyes. One had emerald green eyes as unchangeable as their namesake, while the other had hazel eyes that were soulful and guarded in equal measures. These two said little, though they made it clear that they would not try to befriend Sam but neither would they treat her as Evin did.

The fifth member, Freyd, was by far the most aloof and difficult for Sam to figure out. Right off, however, two things immediately stood out. The first, most outward, were his eyes. Unlike the others', Freyd's were wide, golden, and unblinking. Unnerved, Sam's mind flashed to an image of a cat's eyes. The second thing was more troubling. Freyd possessed an inner stillness so that, while his muscular bulk took up space, his presence felt as small as a mouse's. In this, Freyd was a painful reminder of Teal'c. Aside from that, Freyd was tanned, though not nearly as sun bronzed as Tíllin, with neatly cut hair that fell to the nape of his neck. Sam suspected if he allowed it to grow out, it would fall in a think, brown cascade of waves. Even though he treated her with some amount of quiet respect, Sam wasn't sure how close she could get to him, not with how he reminded her of Teal'c.

Lastly, was Reñid. Already, Sam disliked him far more than she did Evin. Reñid was an obnoxious brownnoser that acted so overly determined to be on Evin's good side that he made sure he made Sam's life a misery. As far as she could tell, he tried to match, then exceed Evin's every mood. If Evin wanted to snub Sam subtly, then Reñid would come out and make a pronounced insult. When Evin, became enraged, Reñid was the one to foster and adopt Evin's temper. She grimaced slightly. It couldn't be bad enough that Reñid naturally looked similar to Evin, if a little darker and much shorter, but he had to act like an idiot merely because he felt he needed to impress a jerk. She held little, if any, respect for such people, but had contempt in abundance.

With a silent sigh, Sam sat back and tried to conserve her energy. Lunch was a luxury none of them could afford, not with an extra person in tow, so the seven of them made due with lounging around and resting up. She was annoyed to realize that none of the others were nearly as bothered as she was by the brutal pace Evin set. They almost seemed to relish it, and a couple of the boys shifted restlessly, clearly ready to move on.

Their wish was soon granted and once again, the septuplet was on its merry way again until dusk, which was about seven hours later. Sam happily sank to the cold, hard earth. Normally, she was sure she would not be as bothered, but it was startlingly hard to keep a relentless pace with her hands bound behind her back.

Mercifully, in order to allow Sam the pleasure of feeding herself, someone would untie her hands, after carefully binding her feet. Evin clearly was taking no precautions. She wondered why he was so paranoid about her escaping. She would ordinarily assume that a prisoner could be fully unbound, but unerringly watched for the duration of their brief freedom. Instead, Evin refused to allow her even that simple luxury. Apparently, whoever sent these people on her trail was overestimating her. Then there was also the chance that this was all just a case of mistaken identity. Sam was not sure if she wanted that to be true. If the men had the right person, then there was a chance she would be put to death. If only she could have been granted such a joy several weeks ago.

As the rope was loosed from her hands, Sam chafed her cold, unresponsive fingers together. _Why do they have to tie the stupid thing so tight?_ she wondered.

Dinner of stale bread and scant cured meat in water was a quick affair. Sam managed to choke her rather disgusting portion down, more out of habit instilled by Harädna than anything. Afterwards, sleep was slow in the coming, but once again dreamless.

The next morning was similar to the previous evening. After eating, one of the twins—whichever one had the green eyes—looped the rope around her hands, once again too tightly for comfort.

Day four began much as the last few had, with one unpleasant difference: the sky clouded up and rain started pouring. The myriad of trees kept the worst of the drizzle off the travelers, but by the noon break everyone was drenched and miserable, even Tíllin.

The only good thing Sam found in the whole uncomfortable situation was that she was getting her first bath in days.

The next day, the sky was feeling mischievous. It let off the downpour long enough for the seven of them to go from soaked to damp, and then it let loose more rain. The twins and Tíllin grumbled under their breath about the moisture, cursing whatever gods were in charge of the weather. Their religion was something that puzzled Sam, when she wasn't wallowing in the misery such rain naturally invoked. Often, she heard them swear to "the gods," but there was never any specification. Was that all anyone ever prayed to, or were there actual individual deities?

Other, more immediate things (like water and "nature") soon rose to her attention. Habitual as ever, Evin quickly had everyone set off again.

The sixth day saw many improvements with one problem. Sometime around midnight, a nightmare pulled Sam from an otherwise restful sleep, but one sleep had fled, it was gone for good. She remained awake the rest of the night and was in a foul mood the next day. As a result, Evin put Freyd on guard duty.

On the bright side, she noticed the forest thinning and the deer trails widening so that two people could walk comfortably abreast. What was even better was the complete halt of wet weather.

Around the noon break, Sam dismally noticed Freyd gazing upward. "I cannot smell any more rain on the wind, nor do I see it in the clouds," he commented.

"Thank the gods!" muttered Tíllin, a slight grin on his lips as he untied Sam's bonds. With a sigh of relief, she rubbed her hands together in a vain effort to get them warm. He continued, "I was beginning to get tired of being bitten by those damn flies every time the rain stopped." Realizing that he had at least been able to use a free hand to shoo said flies away, he cast a sympathetic look in Sam's direction and added, "But you couldn't do much about them." He thought about a safer topic for a moment. "So, you hungry yet? I'm starving!"

Sam shrugged, determined to stay in a bad mood. Even so, she found it relatively amusing how Tíllin constantly thought with his stomach. She was amazed he was up to journeys like this one.

Absently, she kept chafing her fingers. "How much longer until we reach your destination?" she asked softly. It would not do to attract Evin or Reñid's attention and get Tíllin into unnecessary trouble.

Tíllin, however, grinned brightly in response. It was the first time she had ever directly asked any of them a question. Usually she remained quieter than Freyd, which was almost a noteworthy accomplishment. Happy to be the one finally asked, he said, "Well, we've technically reached the end of the Mellak Forest. I'd guess we are still about a day or two off from the nearest settlement." Without warning, he jumped up and snatched a couple of sticks of smoked meat from their supplies. Wordlessly, he handed one to Sam. She took the offering and gnawed at it, though her appetite was shriveled to almost nothing again.

"I have to say," Tíllin began, never one to enjoy silence, "I certainly hope Lord Raimak decides to spare you. You're certainly not what they've accused you of being, so that increases your chances by a lot. You're too nice anyway. But I really wish you would at least give us your name. It's better than saying, 'Hey, You,' or 'Excuse me, but….'" He drifted off.

"Regardless of what you think my chances are," Sam murmured, "if your 'Lord' Raimak decides to kill me, then you shouldn't have to hear something you won't care about in less than a week."

"That's not a fair assessment," Tíllin retorted. "You're not one to say what people will care about in a week or a year."

Sam shrugged again. "What is so significant about me that you'll remember in weeks and years to come? You meet hundreds of people in a lifetime. You can't expect to remember every single person you encounter." She wrapped her arms around her knees and stared into the fire.

For once, Tíllin stayed silent.

- o - O - o - O - o - O - o -

True to Tíllin's word, signs of life started dappling the clear green landscape. Man-made trails and roads were about the extent of what she saw, but signs of life were signs of life. Beggars couldn't choosers, now could they?

"Tonight," Evin announced, "we sleep in real beds, gentlemen!"

Everyone but Freyd and Sam erupted into cheers. Freyd allowed himself a small smile, while Sam refused to respond.

Their newfound happiness was swiftly apparent in the pace. Sam stumbled after, struggling to stay ahead of the twin that guarded her today. When she lagged, he was patient, but barely, and encouraged her to speed up.

That night, they found was made up a passable village, complete with an inn. All but Sam were allowed to bathe in the local bathhouses, which made her feel dirtier than ever, especially since the guys cleaned up fairly well.

Rooms had to be doubled up that night. Evin and Reñid took one, the twins another, and Tíllin, Freyd, and Sam were put in the third. Because there were only two beds, Sam was forced to take the floor between the beds, a fact neither Tíllin nor Freyd seemed to like very much. Later, Sam realized that was due to the fact that both of the guys felt awful about letting a lady be treated like a dog or worse. It wasn't until that later day that she was able to fully appreciate that fact either.

The sun was intensely bright the next day. Sam awoke stiff and sore from the wooden floorboards. Her ankles and knees ached from being so tightly bound together for the night, though that wasn't entirely unusual, since that was how she typically slept as a captive.

The next day, everything flew by in a blur. Scenery passed whimsically by and around three in the afternoon, or so Sam reckoned, a stony grey wall emerged from the hilly grasslands. Closer inspection showed two white battlements rising slowly up from behind the wall.

_So that's where Raimak lives,_ thought Sam, heart sinking. The nearer she got, the less she wanted to arrive. She put the feeling down to unnecessary anxiety of her fate, which would likely be determined quickly after she set foot on the other side of the walls.

* * *

'_Traveling' is by Utada Hikaru. I understand like ten of the words overall in the song, so I don't know how accurately the song itself describes the chapter, but I figured the title is suitable enough._

**R&R**


	3. Chapter 2: How You Remind Me

**Chapter 2**

**How You Remind Me**

The wall was probably about forty feet in height, though Sam figured it could have been anywhere from thirty to forty-five. The castle was less like a castle and more like a very large stone house with battlements and no thatched roof, unlike all of the other houses she saw. The village within the wall was set up in an organized grid pattern with dusty cobblestone paths. Carefully repaired wooden planks and stone foundations made up most of the buildings. From what Sam could tell, the road they walked on was the main route to the castle.

Every so often Tíllin would whisper into Sam's ear, explaining about Raimak so that she would have an idea of what to expect when she encountered him. Apparently, Raimak was not married, nor did he have children. His heir—Tíllin lowered his voice so much that Sam could barely catch this part—was his twenty-year-old niece and Evin's fiancée. Despite this small tidbit, Tíllin admitted that only Evin, Reñid, Raimak, and Raimak's dedicated followers in the village felt any sort of affection for her. He did not elaborate, but Sam got the impression she would find out why if she ever met the woman.

It was impossible to miss the open hostility with which the villagers viewed Sam. She pretended to be unfazed, though every stare felt like another ten pounds on her shoulders. At the same time, she could guess why they acted the way they did. Not only was she a stranger, but she was clearly a captive, and she did not doubt these people were fiercely loyal to Raimak, his niece, and Evin (she suspected that, if this was the case, their respect for Evin was mainly through association to their leader and Evin's fiancée; on the other hand, she could be completely wrong about their love of Raimak, his heir, or Evin).

Because of their enmity, Freyd placed himself closely at Sam's back right while Tíllin took her left arm in a gentle grip. She understood it was not the most sound formation, but at least no one would try anything blatantly harmful this way.

"Don't worry about them," Tíllin muttered, eyeballing a few people right back. "We don't get many visitors, so they're always suspicious of outsiders they've never seen before."

Having already made her own opinions, Sam briefly raised an eyebrow but said nothing back. His words had been meant to reassure her, which she did appreciate, but she knew they were both well aware of the villagers' pointed aggression.

In all, she guessed it took about a half an hour to reach the portcullis at the castle's outer wall. A lookout appeared from above and exchanged greetings with Evin before vanishing from sight again. The portcullis lowered, its chains groaning and clinking under such a massive dead weight.

They immediately emerged into a delicately designed courtyard. It formed a triangle with the walls and part of a large structure opposite of where they were standing. The dirt paths that acted as its legs branched off to an iron gate on each side, through which Sam could see nothing but trees. From the portcullis another dirt path led straight to what Sam figured was Raimak's Great Hall, or whatever he called it, before leading off to the left and right and ending at the gates.

Evin gave a signal and Freyd cut Sam's bonds. She rubbed her hands together in an effort to regain feeling in her cold, limp fingers. From there, Freyd took Sam's right arm, though his grip was more firm than Tíllin's. Tíllin left his place at her side, switching with the hazel-eyed twin. Reñid and the other twin stood behind Freyd, Sam, and "Hazel." Being the leader and second-in-command, Evin and Tíllin positioned themselves at the front of their little group. With a second gesture, they formally made their way to the Great Hall building.

The planet's pale blue equivalent of cherry blossom trees gracefully swayed along the path, softly whispering in the wind.

Two guards waited at the double doors, which they opened at the group's approach. Inside, the hall was cool because of its almost entirely marble interior. Sam didn't envy the people who built this room. About twelve pillars spaced ten feet apart separated her from Raimak. The man in question was seated on what was essentially a throne at the other end. Behind the pillars, stained glass windows depicting scenes from stories and legends sat patiently in the wall. White marble formed the path from the hall's entrance to the thrones, Raimak's being the only one occupied. The pillars were light brown, as was the wall, while the rest of the floor was a jade green marble.

Grimacing, Sam found herself being led steadily toward Raimak. He was to be her judge and jury. In all honesty, she hoped the verdict resulted in the death penalty.

Raimak rested in his simple throne as if he had all the time in the world. Lightly ringed fingers ran across the edge of his armrest. There were two thrones. Raimak's was the taller one; the shorter was empty and long unused. They sat upon a dais with two doors symmetrically placed behind the throne. Except for the size of the thrones, Sam faintly noted, the whole room was one big piece of symmetry.

As they got closer, Sam examined the man who now controlled her fate. He was fairly simple looking and made all the more regal because of it. His very essence radiated power and authority. His hair was dark brown, darker than Freyd's, but hints of grey peppered the temples. It was the eyes that caused Sam to hesitate. They were about as dark as Teal'c's—she did her best to avoid even thinking about her former teammates' names, though sometimes it was unavoidable—but they shone with intelligence. There were other emotions beneath the surface, but they were kept so closely guarded that Sam could not easily discern them even if she wanted to.

When they reached the edge of the dais, Evin and Tíllin gave a quick bow. The others, minus Sam, mimicked their example. Raimak gazed passively at her but said nothing.

After letting each of the seven travelers bask under his unsettling gaze for couple minutes, he said in a voice that was loud and clear, "Tell me, if you please, what made you decide to allow this woman life when I specifically told you to let her meet her end in the woods." He looked at all, eyes sliding past Sam and onto her guards, but he managed to convey he spoke only to Evin.

"My lord," the younger man began carefully, "if you would hear my reasons, I believe there was a mistake. Upon encountering this woman, it was clear she does not practice the black magic your niece, my fiancée, dislikes. However, since you did in fact expressly say that she forfeit her life, I thought it best that I bring her back and allow you to see and judge her in person."

"There should not have been a mistake," Raimak said. "Airda is rarely wrong in her intuitions. She would likely be hurt to hear you lack faith in her judgment." Sam watched Evin's shoulders tense slightly at the rebuke.

"Lord, I do not doubt Lady Airda's wisdom, but I must briefly contest her words with what I have seen with my own eyes. Further, as one of your liegemen, I swore to do no harm to innocents. If this woman were in fact guiltless….My lord, I am no oath breaker."

_I'm touched,_ Sam thought sarcastically. _You only made life miserable for a week because you didn't want to go back on your word._ She forced herself to not add that she was only bitter about Evin's choice because he was able to do what she had not. Biting her lip, she concentrated on the conversation at hand; such thoughts were too dangerous to broach. The biggest irony about the whole situation was that Sam's life was spared even though she… _No,_ she scolded herself. _Stop, dammit._

"No," Raimak agreed. "You are not that." He digested Evin's words. Suddenly, he locked eyes with Sam. "Tell me, woman, do you have a name we may call you by?"

Surprised, Sam managed to not fall for his tactic and kept her mouth shut.

"Well?" demanded Raimak. Gazing at the others, he asked, "Does she?"

"No, my lord," answered Tíllin. "She never gave us a name to call her."

Undeterred, Raimak focused on Sam again. "Explain, then, why you refuse to answer."

She decided that was safe enough to reply to. "On the grounds that I face execution, I don't understand why I need to tell anyone anything that means nothing. If you do choose to kill me, then there's no reason you need to know something you won't even care about a week from now. With all due respect," she added, mentally slapping herself; old habits were hard to break.

Indeed," Raimak said. Sam resisted the urge to flinch at the word Teal'c seemed to have copyrighted. Silenced pervaded for a long moment. "I will take an hour to think so that you all have time to clean up, _all_ of you. At the end of the hour, you may return to hear the decision. However, that part only applies to the woman and whoever guards her; the rest may go and see your families. Who should I expect?" he asked Evin.

"Perhaps Derak and Gerrad," Evin replied after a moment.

Raimak nodded. "In an hour, then."

With a sigh, Sam allowed herself to be led out by the twins. Outside, they directed her to the left. The gates on both sides of the hall were now open. This path led down a small hill to a wide wooden building. Toward the center were two doors. Sam wondered what this place was.

As if he had read her mind, Hazel said, "This is the community bathhouse. There is also an entrance in the back that the rest of the village has access to. At this time of day, there won't be very many people, if any. Someone will be in there to help you, however, so don't worry. Keep in mind that the other entrance is guarded, so escape will not be an option."

_And lose the best bet I have on getting away from what I've done? Maybe provoking the guards would cause trouble, but I doubt it would do much for the me being a black magician spiel_._ Besides, I have an hour to kill. Why not get all this dirt off?_ Sam nodded once in agreement with Hazel's words.

"Uh, Derak," the green-eyed twin, who could only be Gerrad, interjected. "Think…." Sam's brow wrinkled slightly. By Gerrad's tone, he was not referring to the last thing Derak said, the part about escape.

Her confusion deepened when Derak grimaced and added, "Please try not to be intimidated by your aide. She means well, but she's forceful. Most likely, she'll try to take you in."

"If that happens," Gerrad continued, "I doubt Lord Raimak will have much say in your survival." He did not look thrilled by the prospect. Neither did Sam; she really did not want anymore mercy from yet another stranger. The concept was almost too much for her to handle without reverting back to the shell she had been at the SGC.

"'Kay," she said thickly. She turned to go through the door, but then realized she didn't know which one to take. A hand in the corner of her eye pointed to the right. Wordlessly, she opened the door and entered. It groaned softly as it shut. Before her lay a hallway with no doors save the one behind her and the one at the opposite end. About midway was a hall going to the right. She approached it and saw that this hall had doors unevenly spaced on each side. Unsure, she stood at the crossroad, hoping that her aide person would come around soon. When no one did, she called out, "Um…hello?"

At the end of the hall a door opened. "Gods! I am terribly sorry. I didn't hear you enter. Age does that to people." An older woman rushed down the hallway. Sam placed her at about fifty or sixty years old, though the woman's brown hair was almost entirely grey. Mischievous hazel eyes gleamed out of a face with few wrinkles. "What do we have here?" she intoned, clearly not expecting a reply. "I've never seen you before and you don't look like you have any extra clothes. I'll get you a spare set and then we'll clean you up!" she declared. "My name is Tamara and don't you dare hesitate to ask for anything you might want."

"It's okay," Sam tried to assure her. "And you really don't have to—"

"No, I don't," Tamara agreed. "But I want to. I can see you're such a pretty young thing, if a bit thin. I hate seeing a lady looking so grimy and sad. A nice warm bath should help." Her tone booked no room for argument.

"Do I have much of a choice?" Sam asked, starting to resign herself to the inevitability of the twins' warning.

"Indeed not!" tsked Tamara. "I'm going to take you to a room down the hall. I assume you know how to bathe in a tub, so I'll have one filled with some warmed water. All the necessary supplies are already in the rooms. Just let me know when you're finished."

Awkwardly, Sam nodded and allowed herself to be escorted to one of the back rooms. Tamara filled the tub and left the room with a quick grin. Despite her general apathy, Sam slipped gratefully into the warm water.

- o - O - o - O - o - O - o -

"What do you think is the best course of action, my dear?" Raimak asked his niece. The woman's arrival was due to Airda's orders, making her Airda's responsibility. Though the woman's fate was ultimately up to him, he still wanted to hear what Airda had to say.

Airda turned majestically from the window and approached Raimak, playing with a loose strand of her long black hair. "I think that Evin is right," she responded after a moment's thought. "If she practiced thaumaturgy, she would have magicked herself away by now or bewitched Evin and his men into serving her. I think she poses a different sort of threat."

"So you propose her death, then?"

"No, Uncle. The threat is nothing I cannot handle. In fact, I believe I have more use for her alive if she is who I believe her to be."

"Oh?"

Airda smiled enchantingly. "Her arrival is…intriguing. But to answer your first question, I think she should be allowed to live."

Raimak nodded, but did not question any of the cryptic things Airda said. His niece was strange in that way and he had learned that whatever hidden meanings were in her words, they were for her alone. She either could not, or would not, divulge anything.

When he exited the room, he inclined his head in Evin's direction. The younger man was leaning casually against the wall, waiting for Raimak to finish his business with Airda. Taking the cue, Evin went to properly greet his fiancée. The couple was an excellent match, in Raimak's opinion.

_Still…._ Doubt lingered in his mind like a canker. He trusted his niece enough to name her his heir—though the fact that she was the last living member of his family played a part. Everything pointed in her favor. Airda had come from her father's province, which was close to eighty leagues away. In all honesty, he had never heard from either her mother or Airda herself until the young woman had showed up literally upon his doorstep all of about three months ago. She had been accompanied by only her guards and maidservants—Reñid being one of them—with news that her mother had recently passed on. At first he had suspected her of fallacy, seeing as she little resembled his sister in any way, but she had proof that she spoke the truth. The brooch he had given Salya for her sixteenth birthday with their family crest, not to mention the dress his sister wore on the day she left….

As his last living blood relative, Raimak had given Airda the title of his heir. He had already lost his wife in childbirth and the baby boy to pneumonia three weeks later. He had no one else.

Shuttering his oppressive emotions back, Raimak squared his shoulders and walked toward the Great Hall. After all, the hour was almost up.

* * *

_How You Remind Me – Nickelback_

**R&R**


	4. Chapter 3: Evil Angel

**Chapter 3**

**Evil Angel**

The woman in the mirror was a familiar stranger adorned in a dress probably twice her age. Not that the dress was uncomfortable or ugly; it was not too low cut and the hem reached her ankles. The fabric was dyed a muted red color that did its best to complement the gaunt frame it ornamented. The sleeves were a little loose and hung just above her wrists. And the material was a soft cotton, or it came from a very similar plant. All in all, it was soft, plain, and comfy.

Sam found that she strongly disliked it.

She missed her shirts and breeches; _almost_ missed her BDUs. A dress was too confining and she had to be careful about how she walked and sat. Adding insult to injury, the so called shoes were sandals. Usually, back on Earth, Sam had not minded wearing flip-flops and the like, but these sandals looked painful to wear, let alone walk in. Her feet wanted to blister just by her looking at the stupid.

On a slightly less dark side, Sam could see what she really looked like for the first time in months; she wasn't quite as skeletal as she'd imagined. Also, the bath let her skin feel free of the dirt and grime. Too bad other things did not wash off as easily as a week's worth or mud.

Unable to face herself any longer, she turned from the mirror and called out, "Okay. I'm ready."

Tamara bustled into the room. When she said Sam, she grinned broadly. "Excellent! I knew you were lovely under all that muck. Lord Raimak might just have to take pity on you," she said with a teasing wink. "Come now, there's a room down the hall I want to take you to. It has everything I need to finish making you into a proper lady." She took Sam by the arm and almost forcefully led her out the door. The hall was infinitely cooler on Sam's skin compared to the hot and humid room she had just vacated.

Several creaky floorboards and four doors later, they halted in front of another door that was completely identical to any other door in the building. However, the way Tamara's eyes darted around before turning the knob brought Sam to assume the room wasn't typically used for the average patron that came to the bathhouse, least of all someone like Sam.

Needless to say, it wasn't very shocking when Tamara said, "I'm not really 'sposed to let you in here. This is the room Lady Airda often uses. Come, sit here—" she pulled Sam to a sort of vanity table with a lot of beauty supplies and the like, and a large, ornate mirror "—and I'll get to work."

Sam had nowhere else to look but straight ahead as Tamara took a comb to her hair. She contained a grimace when she studied the face staring back.

Like the rest of her body, her face was gaunt in the way that blatantly stated she had all but given up on eating. While she bore no outward scars, it was the eyes that spoke of every painful emotion she'd worn on her soul since _the_ mission. She wondered if her eyes said so much because she had given up wearing the stoic military mask, or if the eyes were simply the one part behind a mask that couldn't truly be concealed.

"You're so quiet," Tamara commented, pulling Sam from the mirror's spell. The comb tugged at the mess of tangles Sam barely had the dignity to claim as her hair. "I have so many questions, but I really hate to pry. I mean, dear, who are you? Where are you from? Not near here; your accent is too different. And if you're from so far away, then why are you here? At the very least, what's your name?"

Though the vast majority of the questions were rhetorical, just a way to fill the void of silence, Sam still immediately dismissed pretty much all of them as off-limits under any circumstances. A kind lady like Tamara didn't deserve to know how awful a person Sam was. Earth was out of the question, as were Sam's reasons for leaving. Only the name was remotely safe, but seeing as she had already made a big deal of _not_ telling anyone….

Biting her lip, she made her impulsive decision. "Sam," she murmured.

She sensed Tamara's pause. "I'm sorry?"

"My name is Sam. Samantha," she amended hesitantly.

The triumphant grin was evident in Tamara's voice when she said, "While you were occupied, I went out to talk with the boys who were at the door. They mentioned you were stubborn about talking about yourself to Raimak and Evin, when he bothered to talk to you. Thank you for allowing me to be the first to hear your name. It's a bit…odd, if you don't mind my saying. Definitely not from around here. Would you prefer Sam or Samantha?"

Sam shrugged. "Whichever you want."

"Hm. Sam, then. I'll leave Samantha for more formal occasions." The comb hit another knot. "Gods, girl, what did you do to create such an awful rats' nest?" Tamara asked in mock exasperation. "It only goes to your shoulder blades, but it's still giving me fits."

Another shrug. "I didn't do anything."

Sam suddenly knew that Tamara had caught the underlying meaning to "nothing." The knowledge caused another grimace to tug at her mouth. "What happened to you?" Tamara asked quietly, mostly to herself. "You're naught but skin and bones, your hair is horribly unkempt, and you were covered in filth. No one deserves such treatment." She paused and worry laced her next words. "You weren't a slave, were you?"

Sam bit back a bitter laugh. If only slavery were her biggest problem. Instead, she said, "In a way." And it was true to an extent. They had all been the slaves of a murderous traitor, and she to her own emotions later. _Is everyone always a slave to something?_ she wondered.

"I didn't see scars," Tamara commented absently. Sam noticed Tamara often said things, but didn't expect a response in return. She mostly spoke to fill silences.

"Some scars can't be seen," murmured Sam. Dull blue eyes gazed reproachfully back from the mirror. How did she get to be so damn thin? She looked anorexic. Perhaps she had been. Everything had fixed itself into one swift blur after she left Earth. A desire for alcohol made itself known when some memories attempted to become too vivid and coherent.

"There we go!" crowed Tamara, able to finally brush through Sam's hair without a single snag. Tamara began pulling some of the hair back into what Sam assumed would resemble half a ponytail. Sure enough, the top half was soon back and tied, while the bottom half was hanging loose.

Tamara had Sam stand up and, blessedly, turn away from the mirror so she could admire her handiwork. "The boys are in for a shock when they see you!" she smiled.

"Hardly," Sam demurred, knowing it would take more than a bath and a new dress to improve her appearance.

"Learn to take a compliment," Tamara scolded but with no heat. "You're a pretty thing, so stop denying it and learn to live with the truth." Softening her tone, she added, "Come on. The boys are probably waiting and time is almost up." The left Airda's room and quickly made the walk to the first hallway Sam had come to.

Tamara strode to the door and opened it, motioning Sam out first. Derak and Gerrad were waiting. No surprise there. When she emerged, they both did a double take in stereo wearing almost the exact same expression, causing Tamara to chuckle. "Told you they'd be shocked," she told Sam. To the twins she said, "Pretty girl, isn't she? Too bad you couldn't see it under all the filth! You boys should have taken better care of her. What were you thinking?"

"Sorry, Mum," Green—Gerrad?—mumbled, chastised.

'_Mum?'_ thought Sam, mildly shocked. But when she looked at Derak's eyes, she saw the resemblance to Tamara's, though they were more guarded than hers.

"Won't happened again," he added to his brother's apology.

Tamara rolled her eyes to Sam. "Men!" she exclaimed. "Go on, now! Dazzle our fair lord. And you two! Take better care of her."

"Yes, Mum," the twins muttered sulkily.

"I mean it," she growled. To Sam she whispered, "Good luck, Sam!" and retreated back into the bathhouse.

"Sam, huh?" Derak commented, using a nicer tone of voice by way of truce.

Sam nodded, accepting the apology for what it was; it was also the first true conversation anyone but Tíllin had tried to start with her. Suddenly, something from her subconscious wriggled its way to the fore of her mind. "Why am I worth the trouble?"

Gerrad didn't pretend to misunderstand her. "Lord Raimak's niece claims to have a sense above and beyond our ordinary five. She's the one who sent us out after receiving word on your location. I assume that means she had people looking out for you, but I don't know why." Though the tone wasn't exactly friendly, he did not sound aggressive, either, which was a step up. Apparently Tamara worked wonders.

Sam ignored the spoken not-quite question. Not that she knew any more than he did. His words provoked a nervous flutter in her stomach. Something about the whole situation was fishy, though she couldn't put a finger on it.

"You don't know who the source was?" she pressed.

The twins exchanged a glance. "You know," Derak said, "she did mention a name—"

"—but I don't remember who—"

"Actually, I think it began with an 'h.'"

"Helg…Han…Har—"

"Hera…Hara—"

"Harädna?" Gerrad asked thoughtfully.

"I think that's it," Derak nodded.

She must have made some noise because they both glanced at her, puzzled. "Are you alright?" Derak asked. She gave him a point in his favor; he sounded like he may have been genuinely concerned for a second.

"Yeah. I'm fine," she lied smoothly, ice creeping into her heart. Harädna? How was that possible? How could the dear, sweet old lady who forced Sam back to some level of normalcy be the one who betrayed her? It just showed how much you could trust a person.

Derak, satisfied with the answer, focused his attention on moving forward. Luckily, the Great Hall wasn't very far.

Evin and Tíllin were waiting outside the doors. They turned impatiently to the new arrivals, but had to do a double take when they saw her transformation. Tíllin's mouth even hung open slightly. Even Evin appeared startled.

Sam patiently waited for them to gather their wits. Evin didn't take long. "Right," he said. "Let's go." The guards to either side of the door opened it and the quintet entered the Great Hall, Evin and Tíllin in the lead.

The marble was easier on Sam's feet to walk across. As predicted, the sandals hurt like hell, but it was a pain she could tolerate for a little bit.

As they approached, Raimak, who had been calmly sitting, rose. "I do not plan on keeping you long," he said, not beating around the bush. "I am sure you are eager to return to your families as soon as you can. It is in that spirit I give you my decision. The woman will be allowed to live—for now. I give you permission to go where you please, excepting the places you have no business in entering. You must be escorted by at least one person at all times, preferably by Evin, or one of his men. Your escort will be in charge of reporting to me if you break one of my laws knowingly. One of Evin's men will educate you in the Law to prevent you from making such an error." He glanced over his shoulder at the doorway to his left. "Do you have anything to add, my dear?"

It took every ounce of willpower for Sam to not react in any number of negative ways when the person Raimak spoke to emerged from behind the throne.

She delicately stepped over to Raimak's side and laid a small hand on his arm. A small smile graced her lips when she turned, first to Raimak then to Evin. Sam's stomach knotted painfully as she witnessed one of the galaxy's most impossible jokes. Raimak's niece calmly slid her eyes over to Sam.

"I think you covered everything quite well, Uncle," said Adria.

* * *

_Uh-oh! I hinted…. Who ended up figuring it out?_

_Evil Angel – Breaking Benjamin_

_This is one of the ones where it was the title more than anything that had the most meaning to the chapter rather than the actual content of the song. Some lines kind of work, so ha! (Oh, dear lord. I need sleep.) I'll probably change it later, but this is the best I can do for now._

**R&R**


	5. Chapter 4: It's Not Over

**Chapter 4**

**It's Not Over**

The smile Adria directed in Sam's direction shifted in a way that conveyed a single, simple message: _"I'm in control here, and you will suffer the consequences."_

Caught between shock and outrage, Sam had to literally bite her tongue in order to remain silent. Anger smoldered in her stomach, slowly taking flame in a way it hadn't since…never mind. Her mind refused to go there. It wasn't going very far anyways; all vital thinking systems seemed to be frozen. Questions played over and over like a broken record: How did Adria get here? _Why_ was she here? What happened to Morgan? What was she planning? Adria never randomly popped up unless she had something devious running through that little mind of hers.

"Nothing further," Raimak said, either not caring or unaware of the tension building in Sam. He swept out of the room, taking the right door. Adria approached Evin, who took her hand and gave her the sickest puppy dog look Sam ever had the displeasure of seeing. Someone grabbed her shoulder, which startled Sam's mind into moving again.

Turning, she saw Tíllin watching her with a concerned expression on his face. She shook her head. "Let's go," she said, spinning on her heel and striding purposefully down the length of the Great Hall. She didn't have a destination in mind; she just wanted to leave the room.

Fury coursed through her veins. Whatever higher power that controlled fate in the galaxy had to be the biggest asshole known to the universe. She couldn't even _begin_ to describe the rage she felt. Who did "He" or "She" think they were? The absolute last thing Sam needed was yet another reminder of a life long gone, and for that reminder to be Adria…. Of all people, why did it have to be her? Why was it the one person who could serve as the largest rebuke to Sam's own sin?

And the worst part? There wasn't a damned thing Sam could do about the situation. Maybe, just maybe, the so called higher power sent Adria specifically to be a punishment.

_No._ Sam refused to believe that. It was far too convenient. That kind of convenience didn't exist for Adria's victims. And for whatever reason, Sam was in the unfortunate position.

As if life wasn't hell enough. What gave Adria the right to intrude on this pathetic existence that Sam had no right to call a life?

"Wait!" Tíllin called. She heard his quick footsteps on the marble as he struggled to catch up. A second set joined his. She ignored them both. "Hey! Please? Lord Raimak said—"

Annoyed, she stopped so abruptly that he collided into her. Still balanced, he was able to pull away before she was bowled over. Attempting to curb her spontaneous show of heated fury, she made a slow pivot, and found herself facing Tíllin and Derak. Glancing over their shoulders, she noted Gerrad slowly making his way down the hall.

"What?" she asked. She sounded too angry. Taking a deep breath, she tried again, "I'm sorry. What?"

"Care to explain?" Derak asked, though it sounded closer to an order.

Sam's mouth opened, but no sound came out. The guys waited patiently, except Gerrad, who was still approaching. Finally, she said, "Not really…just…she brought back a lot of bad memories."

Puzzlement creased their faces. "But, you've never met her before, have you?" Tíllin intoned slowly. Sam could see the wheels turning.

"I'm not entirely sure, yet," Sam lied. "But, in any case, she reminded me of things that are better left in the past."

They guys exchanged a look, but enough of the shared message was veiled that Sam couldn't interpret it. "You still shouldn't go running away," Derak finally said. "After all, Lord Raimak just said that you can't go anywhere without an escort _and_ that you would be given a swift punishment if you break any of his rules."

"And rule number one," Tíllin continued, "is to obey Lord Raimak's orders or face the consequences."

"So you're the ones in charge of teaching me Rai…_Lord_ Raimak's laws?" Talking seemed to do wonders for easing out of blind fury.

"I think Mum's got a bit attached…," Derak admitted. "She'd never forgive any of us if we let anything bad happen."

Tíllin snickered and Derak glared back. "Don't worry, I think even Lord Raimak's scared in the face of Tamara's wrath," he chuckled, not the least bit perturbed.

"Anyone in their right mind would be scared of her if they got on her bad side," Gerrad agreed, finally close enough to hear the conversation. "Also—" this was said with a barely concealed grimace "—I think she'll probably try to ask you to stay with us. Just a warning." He walked out the doors. Sam, Tíllin, and Derak followed suit. Outside, Derak shrugged at Sam and Tíllin and wordlessly followed his brother through the gate to their right.

"They're…friendly," Sam commented with a resigned sigh. She'd gotten a decent grip on her temper, but she wasn't sure if she would fly off the handle again. After all, it hadn't taken much for it to happen all of five minutes ago.

Tíllin's shrug was similar to Derak's, but it held different meaning. "They don't have anything against you," he said. "It's mostly their loyalty to Evin. He doesn't…he's not fond of you because of Lady Airda, so through Evin, most of the others are a little less friendly than they might usually be. In fact, if there wasn't some level of—" Tíllin suddenly broke off and glanced at the guards to either side of the doors they were standing directly in front of. He nodded his head discreetly in the direction the twins had traveled. Sam silently walked next to him as he led the way to the gate she had yet to pass through.

Outside, for that's what it was compared to the confines of Raimak's keep, the air was fresh in a way not even the forest had been. One cobblestone path ran directly straight and down a hill that led to several larger houses. About ten feet from the gate itself, another cobblestone path dodged to the right and disappeared into the wooded area that collected around that half of the keep.

Tíllin quickly finished where he had left off, albeit more quietly than before. "If it wasn't some level of friction between us and _her_, then I'm sure they would be more inclined to act closer to the way Evin does. However, since I think Evin is influenced by Lady Airda, there's no telling how he would feel without her here. The same goes for the twins."

Sam shuddered. Adria was in control of some pretty powerful people here. So far, she was the niece of the man who could kill her with a snap of his fingers, and her fiancé and his men were charged with watching her indefinitely. She could already manipulate the leader (Sam recognized a whipped man when she saw one), whose every change in mood affected his five subordinates. Reñid was the worst, though Tíllin and Freyd were the least concerned with Evin's shifts in temper. She wasn't entirely sure where Derak and Gerrad stood, though Tamara, who seemed to have taken a liking to Sam, appeared to be able to curb the way her sons acted.

Tíllin, not privy to her thoughts, was giving her a confused look. "Sorry," Sam apologized. "Cold chills." To change the subject, she said, "So you really think Tamara's going to take me in?"

"Hm." Tíllin thought for a moment. "Well, Lord Raimak said that one of Evin's men was to be with you at all times, which would require you live with one of us. Evin and Reñid are out for obvious reasons. Freyd is out because his wife recently had another child, which, with three others, is almost too much for them to handle. Yes, he is married with children," he added, seeing the look on Sam's face. "I have no significant other, which would cause a scandal and throw my loyalty into question, especially because I live alone. That particular rule does not apply to Derak and Gerrad because Tamara would keep everyone in line under her roof."

"I see. It's not Tamara I would have the most problems with," she admitted. "I guess it would work." The idea wasn't the most appealing, however. Sam still wished she was living undisturbed with Harädna. Excusing the fact that it was apparently Harädna who'd betrayed Sam to Adria in the first place. Then again, if she had her way, she would have no reason to be here at all.

"Let's go," Tíllin said, eyeing the area beyond the gate.. "I'm sure Tamara wants to see you now that Lord Raimak let you off."

Sam nodded in compliance and let Tíllin take the lead.

- o - O - o - O - o - O - o -

"I hope you know what you're doing, dear," Raimak commented to Airda as they walked arm in arm back to their separate chambers. "I don't trust that woman. She remains stubborn, and I cannot say I liked the look she gave you." Discreetly not paying attention was Evin, who followed at an unobtrusive distance.

Airda's laugh was soft and reminded Raimak of bells. "Peace, Uncle," she chided. "I know what I am doing. And her feelings toward me are no surprise. She was friends with my mother, though the two of us never truly saw eye to eye."

"Oh? Do I have reason to worry about your safety?" Raimak asked, raising his brow. "I have no desire to let you join your aunt and cousin in the afterlife so soon after meeting you.

Many inflections, implying distaste and vexation, crossed Airda's face, causing Raimak to be confused. What had he said to provoke that reaction? In the end, however, all she chuckled back was, "I doubt I will meet them in the afterlife very soon. You need not worry for me, Uncle. I am well-equipped to keep myself safe. Besides, I have Evin, and my guards." Here, she glanced back at Evin and favored him with a smile. "Even so," she said, turning back to Raimak, "she is no threat to me at the moment."

Suddenly uncomfortable with the conversation, Raimak decided to change the subject. "You say Salya knew her," he murmured slowly. "And through her, you do as well. Would you, perchance, be willing to divulge her name?"

Airda in turn raise her brow at him. "When I knew her, she went by Colonel Samantha Carter. Unfortunately for her, it looks like she has fallen upon hard times. Perhaps she uses a different name now. I would speak with that old woman in the bathhouse, the twins' mother, I believe. Most likely, our new…_guest_…told her. She always had a soft spot for people like that." A reflective smile touched the corners of Airda's lips.

The discomfort intensified. Raimak chose not to press his niece on the matter; the answer may not be to his liking. As much as he preferred to deny it, he still did not know Airda very well, and she, for all her sweet and kind nature, gave off a vibe that was less than pleasant in certain circumstances. Now was no exception. He did not like this Samantha Carter, but he also hoped no ill would befall her due to any evil in his niece's nature.

The urge to escape into the woods crossed his mind. _Yes, a ride sounds very refreshing,_ he thought wistfully. If he had his way, he would rather stay a week in the woods with no company other than his hardy gelding, Shylock.

And while he was gone, Airda had plenty of time to back in Evin's attention uninterrupted. Dispite his misgivings about Airda, he had to admit that she and Evin were an excellent match.

They paused outside Airda's room. "I think," Raimak announced, "I will depart for a ride. I plan on being back before dinner." He gave her a brief peck on the cheek and left her to her own devices.

- o - O - o - O - o - O - o -

Sam and Tíllin reached the spot on the path where it diverged. Questioningly, Sam glanced down the right one and would have taken it if Tíllin hadn't grabbed her arm and pulled her back. "That goes to Lord Raimak's private stables," he hissed. "We're allowed to go there because it leads to the soldiers' stables as well, but usually if you're not a soldier, you're punished for trespassing back there. I doubt your punishment would end up being light either."

Sam pursed her lips. Bit back a response about maybe wanting a heavy punishment. "Ah. So everyone lives down there." She gestured down the straight path.

Tíllin nodded and let her go. They walked in silence until they descended down the hill. Without warning, Sam felt her sandals slipping on stone. She grunted as she struggled in vain to regain balance. Tíllin's arms reached around her stomach and hauled her up. "Careful!" he cautioned.

"Damn shoes. If Tamara hadn't—" Sam broke off when she felt Tíllin, who had yet to release her, shaking.

"Then the question about your home has already been settled. Tamara doesn't take to everyone, but she's already as good as adopted you," he explained. "You're one of the lucky few."

"Great," she responded, freeing herself. Surprisingly, she wasn't being sarcastic. She was about to step off again when Tíllin grabbed her arm. Annoyed, she glared at him.

"You can't walk with those things on, and I wouldn't recommend barefoot. Personal experience. Besides, I have one more question, so I can't let you get away."

Sam didn't bother to tell him he didn't have to keep a hold on her arm if he wanted to ask a question; they were going to the same place, anyway, weren't they? "Ask," she said.

"What provoked such a reaction to Lady Airda? Sorry, for being so blunt, as I don't want to be offensive." He looked so sheepish and saddened by his rudeness that Sam couldn't be too angry at him. Not that it stopped a little temper from flaring up.

Quashing it down, she simply said, "We met each other a few years ago. We don't like each other very much, but as long as she leaves me alone, I'll leave her alone." _For now,_ she added silently. Adria was too dangerous to be left to her own devices for long. And maybe, just maybe, destroying Adria would ease her pain? Probably not. She learned early on that what she had endured couldn't be solved by something just as bad. Murder and killing for redemption were two sides of the same coin. Someone still ended up dead.

"I noticed," Tíllin noted dryly as they hit flat ground. The path widened to a size akin to the streets of Sam's old neighborhood back on...back at her old home. Large wooden houses were widely spaced the road to either side. They went only two houses down and turned up a path that went to the left and to one of the houses. "Welcome to Tamara's home," he announced. "Tomorrow someone will have to give you a better tour," he said. "See you at dinner in the Great Hall tonight." He knocked on the door and slipped away before Sam could respond.

* * *

_It's Not Over - Daughtry_

**R&R**


	6. Chapter 5: Wreck of the Day

**Chapter 5**

**Wreck of the Day**

General Landry was immediately aware of a dull knocking on his door, followed by someone opening it and walking in without waiting for permission.

He didn't look up. "No, Colonel, I haven't received any news since the last time you came in—oh, about two hours ago." Landry glanced pointedly at his watch before meeting an aggravated Colonel Mitchell's gaze.

"Nothing," Cam echoed. "Have the Tok'ra reported back? Any Jaffa? No one has reported anything?" His Carolinian accent was very pronounced, as it had been whenever he discussed his AWOL teammate, or anything related to her. Landry did not need the heightened accent to know how concerned Cam was for Sam, since the constant visits were more than enough indication.

"Colonel, when I say there's been nothing, I _mean_ there's…been…nothing. End of story. And if it makes you feel better I can promise you'll be the first person I inform if there's been any sign. That's all I can do. I'm sorry." Seeing the pained expression on Cam's face, Landry softened his tone. "Why don't you and your team take the night off? That's an order, by the way."

"General, I—"

"Will be just a phone call away," Landry smiled, gesturing at the red phone on his desk. "Go! I don't want to see you or your team on this base, unless there's a _very_ good reason."

Cam clamped his lips together, eyes flashing mutinously. "Yes, sir," he said tersely and left, making sure he respectfully slammed the door as he did so.

Landry sat back in his chair and sighed. A skittish Walter peered in from the other door. "It's safe," Landry told him dryly.

Walter jumped. "Yes, sir. Uh, sir, if I may, how many times is that?"

"There a pool on how many times he's going to storm into my office before we find her?" Landry asked, amused. "Or is it the team in general? They haven't been too quiet themselves."

"No, not at all," Walter replied quickly. All it took was expectantly raised eyebrows from Landry before the Sergeant broke. "A small one," he admitted. "Or five."

"Five?"

"One for each teammate and one for the whole team."

"I see." Landry clasped his hands together and stoically watched Walter squirm for a few seconds. "Put me down 102 for Mitchell, 87 for Vala, 53 for Teal'c, and 48 for Jackson. That'd be 290 collectively, wouldn't it?" He resisted the urge to chuckle at Walter's fish face.

"Sir?" he squeaked. "Isn't that a little…unprofessional?"

"Only if I lose," replied Landry. "In that case, this conversation never took place, now did it?"

"Wh-what conversation?" Walter stuttered, catching the drift. He gestured at the door. "So I'll just…?"

"You wanted stats?"

"Oh! Right, sir. If you don't mind?"

"Well, it's been five weeks and he's tracked me down about 38 times. Vala's at 27, Teal'c's at 23, and Jackson's at 19. I think you'll be able to add that up for the collective score so far."

"Ah, yes, sir. Thank you, sir." Walter quickly left the room and Landry allowed himself a few quiet chortles. It was fun to keep the underlings on their toes.

It was about the only thing he had to look forward to these days.

- o - O - o - O - o - O - o -

Cam absently strode down the hall, wrapped in a cocoon of simmering anger. He was so distracted that anyone in his way had to move quickly or chance being run over.

His fists clenched as he thought back to the conversation he had just overheard between General Landry and Harriman. Did everyone think this whole thing was a joke? Sam's leaving was not funny, and neither was placing bets on how concerned her teammates were.

In a way, he had an inkling of understanding. Things were bad these days, not the least of which being Barrett's betrayal. With so many powerful and corrupt people in Barrett's pocket, Landry was lucky to still have his job! They all were, in truth, but Cam would have expected a Barrett-puppet to be put in charge of the SGC. Then again, it wasn't like Landry had much more power than the lowliest sergeant on base. There was no use in pretending Barrett didn't have dozens of spies spread out an hidden throughout the base. Some were even in plain sight—

"Oof!" he grunted, colliding with something large and solid. He staggered backwards.

"Colonel Mitchell." A dark hand reached out to steady the off-balanced colonel.

Cam swallowed the lump that had developed in his throat. "There's nothing Teal'c," he growled. "Not a damn thing. Landry just treats it like a joke, anyways."

"Indeed."

"He's leaking information to the betting pool. Apparently everybody thinks it _funny_ we're worried about her. Ungrateful bastards. I read the reports! She's single handedly saved their asses a time or two—"

"Colonel," Teal'c said, placing a steady hand on Cam's arm. Cam obediently halted his tirade. "I do not concur with Landry's actions. However, I do not believe you should speak so hatefully of your coworkers."

Cam sighed. It was the only concession Teal'c was going to get on the matter. Instead, he said, "We've been ordered off-base."

"Then perhaps we should find Daniel Jackson and Vala Mal Doran and leave."

"Huh?" Cam felt like he had missed a step in Teal'c's thinking. Judging by the Jaffa's tone, granted to most people Teal'c generally sounded monotone, he had something in mind.

"This conversation warrants further discussion and does not necessarily need to be held here. As you said, we were ordered off the base."

Cam conceded Teal'c's point; Barrett had eyes and ears almost everywhere in the SGC. He didn't entirely understand why a team meeting was needed, as that's what he assumed Teal'c was hinting at. However, he merely said, "Fine. Where at?"

"O'Malley's." It was SG-1's code for "that karaoke bar downtown that none of us knows the name of and anyone else would have trouble finding." They had to speak cryptically at times; if Barrett knew where they were going, he would have reason to suspect them of being blatantly up to no good, in his eyes, and would immediately have them spied on for the rest of their natural lives. At the very least, using a different name put any eavesdroppers off guard. Teal'c continued, "Perhaps we should inform Daniel Jackson and Vala Mal Doran of what has transpired now."

"Right. C'mon," Cam grunted. The secrecy was really beginning to grate on his nerves.

- o - O - o - O - o - O - o -

"So what's this about, Mitchell?" Jackson asked. His curiosity was piqued, Cam knew. They didn't usually call meeting because they more they met, the more likely one of Barrett's people would notice, and the greater chance there was of the karaoke bar/meeting place being discovered. Cam felt a little guilty, since his news wasn't all that great.

He relayed what had happened earlier with Landry. Both Jackson and Vala expressed some level of displeasure at hearing what he had to say, but not in his favor.

"So?" Vala shrugged. "I wouldn't call a secret meeting at a random karaoke bar for that sort of update. It's bad enough we have to hide hear just to speak properly to each other. I was hoping for something that would make coming to this garbage dump worth while." Cam had to admit she had a point. The karaoke bar hosted some of the worst singers known to mankind, the smell was absolutely awful, and the food would probably be healthier and more appetizing if it spent a couple weeks in a landfill first. Whether for better or worse, it was the perfect place if they didn't want Barrett or one of his people to immediately think of it as the place they hung out at now.

However, his agreement did not stop him from directing a glare at the young woman.

Jackson pinched the bridge of his nose. "Look, Mitch-Cam, aren't you taking this a bit too seriously?" His tone was too patronizing for Cam's liking.

"Screw this," he growled. Sarcasm lent venom to his next words. "At least you're being honest about how much you want to see your teammate again. You've only known her for, what, ten years? It's understandable how you could easily overlook how much she was destroyed. But never mind. I'm sorry I wasted so much of your precious time. You can go back to translating those Isian documents for Barrett like a good little boy." He stood up, knocking the chair over. Jackson followed suit before he could leave.

"That is going _too_ far, Mitchell," Jackson snapped. "You know I want her back as much as you do, but sitting in Landry's office, hovering over his shoulder for hours on end won't solve a damn thing. By going to other planets, there's always the chance, no matter how slim, that we'll run into her. By doing my job, I'm doing the best I can to look for her."

Cam took a couple seconds to be grateful to the obnoxiously awful "singer" currently wailing away so as to distract anyone from the classified information Jackson had so carelessly spewed out, and to collect his thoughts. He had to _focus_. Jackson wasn't the enemy here; Barrett was. The team needed to grow up and stop squabbling if they wanted to succeed in their top two priorities: finding Sam, and annihilating Barrett's hold.

Once and for all.

* * *

_Wreck of the Day – Anna Nalick (She sang 'Breathe (2__A.M.__ )' for anyone who might be curious.)_

**R&R**


	7. Chapter 6: The Reason

**A/N:** _My "summary" doesn't cover every little detail for two reasons: 1. What's the point when pretty much everyone has _seen_ what I'm describing and 2. Because I'm too lazy._

_Oh, and there's a minor Atlantis season 5 spoiler._

* * *

**Chapter 6**

"Okay, look," Cam said. He sighed softly, unsure of how to proceed with what he needed to say next. Jackson's eyes bored into his head, and Cam met his gaze. "I'm sorry," he simply said. "I'm just getting so damn frustrated with…with _the_ mission, and Barrett, and Sam being gone."

Jackson, whose eyes still burned with the anger Cam had so easily provoked, nodded curtly and righted his chair. Cam copied him and they sat down. Vala was staring at him wide-eyed. He didn't look over at Teal'c's expression, but he doubted he would see much there anyway.

"No offense," he said, for Jackson's benefit, if anything, "but I just don't think we're doing enough."

"Colonel Mitchell." Somehow Teal'c managed to softly cut through the music. Curiously, Cam, Jackson, and Vala all turned to look at him. "I believe Colonel Carter left for a reason."

"Well, of course she left for a reason," Cam barked out a humorless laugh. Teal'c's expression became slightly troubled. "What?"

"I believe she left with a purpose in mind that either couldn't include us, or Colonel Carter simply did not wish to include us." He sounded hesitant.

Cam wanted to argue. The possibility was something he'd been denying for weeks, but now that it was out in the open, he couldn't very easily deny it anymore. It explained Sam's withdrawal from everybody, the way she winced at the sight of her team or Landry, and how she flinched like she'd been slapped whenever someone barely touched her. The same thoughts were in the eyes of Jackson and Vala.

"That's no fair!" protested Vala, sounding hurt. "Why _couldn't_ we go with her?"

"Perhaps," Teal'c said, "she couldn't allow us to go, too."

"I-I…I'm not sure I understand," said Vala, tearing up slightly. Cam thought she sounded betrayed, though it was difficult to tell over the booming rock music.

Teal'c appeared troubled as he tried to explain. "You observed how Colonel Carter withdrew from everyone, especially us, even though we are her friends." No one missed the "especially," and they all exchanged a quick glance. "It is possible she wished to find peace in her own way and taking us with would have only hindered that quest. For the first week, none of you could stand to look each other in the eye for more than a few seconds," Teal'c reminded them gently.

"So, what?" Cam broke in. "You're saying she doesn't want to be found?"

Teal'c inclined his head slightly.

"We should just stop searching?" Cam didn't understand why this conversation was so final to him. The feeling in his stomach wasn't a good one.

"I am sorry, Colonel Mitchell."

"But…what about General O'Neill?"

"Jack has his hands full in Washington. The NID is being even more trouble since…." Jackson drifted off, knowing they could fill in the blanks. "I'm sure if he were here, he wouldn't be doing anything you haven't tried already, Mitchell. Unfortunately, our hands are tied like everyone else's."

"We could pull a Sam," Cam suggested hesitantly. "Just up and leave."

"I don't think that's the answer," Jackson said. "As much as I hate to say this, I'm sure Sam's fine, so we don't _need_ to look for her. We can focus on getting Barrett out of power."

"Ha! Right," Cam said sarcastically but offered nothing further.

The team, having discussed everything major, soon dispersed. At his house, Cam went through his nightly rituals on autopilot. His thoughts were on the team.

When he first took command of SG-1, it was a dream come true. Not only was he a member of the SGC's flagship team, but he would play an integral part in it. Unfortunately, getting the band back together was twenty times more difficult than he'd anticipated. Everyone had already planned something else and had no intention of staying put. Ruefully, Cam supposed he had Vala to thank for partially getting the disbanded team together again.

Everything had been going great. Soon the entire team (sans General O'Neill, of course) was back in the frontline fighting to rid this galaxy and the next of the Ori. They'd done it…eventually…and life went back to normal. Relatively speaking.

But then Sam was called in to Atlantis because of some trouble revolving around Dr. Weir. Cam mainly missed her because he felt she had the most tolerance for him (not to mention she rivaled his grandma when it came to macaroons!) and because she was a pretty easy person to miss when she was gone.

In the end, there was some debate, and Sam backed down so Woolsey could take her place. As much as she enjoyed her time in Pegasus, it seemed she missed her team as much as they missed her.

Life, once again, resumed normally in the relative sense.

Then Barrett showed up and turned their lives upside down. He had the authority to make them perform murder in its purest form. After the second mission, Sam caved.

She stopped speaking to everyone. She would shake her head, or shrug her shoulders, or make other gestures, but even those stopped. Her office became her only retreat. 

Sometimes her team came in and talked to her, even if she didn't respond. On those visits, they brought food, which she picked at. After a while, she started locking her door. Not only was that saying she wanted to be alone, she was also refusing food. This worried her teammates the most. It was almost like she was slowly punishing herself. First with isolating herself, followed by starvation.

On one of the rare days her door was unlocked, Cam happened to wander in. He was staggered by her appearance. Her hair was greasy and matted and she looked gaunt, strained, and exhausted. Her eyes were dull and distant. Cam wanted to smack himself. How could he let her go so far? He tried to take her to the infirmary, but she somehow gathered the strength to fight him out into the hallway. The door slammed in his face and, as he expected, was locked.

The team was naturally very concerned, but they didn't have to worry too much longer. She left that night. Rather ingeniously, in Cam's opinion, but with her IQ, it wasn't surprising. He gathered that she'd been incrementally locking the technicians out of the system until she was able to gain total access in one fell swoop. In the long run, the whole process was so subtle, no one had noticed until the trap was sprung.

SG-1 was immediately sent to the planet she last dialed, but they knew she would have probably moved on. They were right. When they arrived, it was like she'd never been there. Teal'c couldn't even find footprints.

Cam sighed as he shifted in his bed. He felt it was his fault in part that she was gone. If he hadn't tried to force her out of the office, maybe they'd have had more time to help her. Guilt wasn't his only reason for wanting her back, but it was the driving force. Was it akin to the guilt that made Sam leave? It was a question he couldn't find the answer to.

It wasn't that he didn't feel all of the emotions she had felt after the mission, but she was the most affected. Something about that particular mission. There was just something about the second one that hurt her so much she left Earth and her family.

But what?

Just one more question he didn't have the answer to.

* * *

**R&R**


	8. Chapter 7: No One

**Chapter 7**

_Two Months Later:_

"Face it, Tamara, I can't cook," groaned Sam, wiping her sweaty forehead with a flour-covered hand; it was uncomfortably warm with the oven on.

"Nonsense, girl," Tamara chided. "Anyone can."

Sam pursed her lips. "I guess I _can_ bake cookies," she admitted. Tamara smiled triumphantly.

"I think the boys would like some fresh cookies," announced Tamara, as if the whole idea had suddenly occurred to her out of the blue. "You can start working over there." She gestured at an empty space of counter.

Today was a baking day. Tamara loved to make food with her hands and spent every third day of the week making as much as possible. Sam knew that she'd be on cookie duty now that she'd told Tamara she could actually make something that didn't come out burned, over-salted, under mixed, etc.

With a sigh, she set to work. The motherly older woman was difficult to say no to. And even more difficult to stay unattached to.

After she found all the ingredients and began mixing them, Derak walked in. "A little warm in here," he commented. Sam, who could see him in the doorway out of the corner of her eye, flushed as he noticed her bathed in flour and doubled over laughing.

"Thanks," she muttered sarcastically. Did she really look that bad? Or that funny?

He straightened and snickered. "Quite welcome."

"Behave, Derak," Tamara scolded with mock severity. "This young lady is kind enough to make cookies and you stand there and laugh at her. Maybe you shouldn't get any at all. Speaking of which, what kind are you making?"

Sam thought of the resources readily available to her, and which of those Derak most preferred. "Honey almond," she smirked.

Derak groaned. "You women are all so cruel. And you wonder why I haven't married, Mum!" He turned his attention to Sam. "Please say your cookies are better than your bread."

With her right hand—the hand Derak couldn't see—she grabbed a handful of flour and turned toward her unsuspecting victim, putting both hands behind her back. She walked over until she was about three feet away from Derak and, without warning, flung all the flour at his head.

"Hey!" he sputtered, trying to wipe the powder out of his eyes and not succeeding. For some reason, seeing one side of his head covered in flour, hazel eyes narrowed indignantly, struck Sam as humorous.

She grinned and Derak paused, looking at her face intently, his expression one of surprise. The grin faded. Even Tamara was watching them now. "What?" Sam asked, wondering what was wrong.

Derak blinked. "Ah, sorry. It's just…you've never smiled like that before."

Sam mouth became its normal flat line and she could tell Derak wished he hadn't said anything.

She went back to mixing the batter, thinking how true his words were. In all actuality, that was the first time she'd even come close to smiling. Ever since she had arrived, she'd been somber and quiet. For some reason, she was feeling adventurous today.

"Where are the rest of the boys?" Tamara asked to break the tense silence that had descended upon them.

"Gerrad is waiting for Tïllin and Freyhd to stop sparring. Evin's with Airda. Sam, are you alright?" He hadn't missed how Sam suddenly felt the need to start killing the batter with her stirrer, instead of simply mixing it, nor did he miss how she tensed up.

"Just fine," she grunted.

"Reñid is still seething from Lord Raimak's decision." Sam knew that Derak and his mother were more than likely having another, silent conversation behind her back. She suspected it would involve her reaction to "Airda's" name and about Reñid's unreasonable hatred toward her. Not even she understood why he acted so spitefully. Even Evin had thawed a little bit towards her.

"I'm ready," Sam told Tamara, nodding at the batter.

"Mm, honey almond," Derak said wistfully. He crept over and inched a hand toward the batter. Sam noticed and slapped his outstretched hand.

"You need to wait like the rest of us," she said mildly, taking the wood and steel tray from Tamara. With deliberate slowness, she placed golf ball-sized pieces of batter on the tray. In spite of herself, she found it fun to taunt Derak. He was easy-going by nature, but could have a wicked sense of humor when the mood struck him. Right now, Sam could tell he was in a good mood because of his little sparring tournament with the guys, and her newfound playfulness.

Today would be interesting when the rest of the guys showed up. If she was acting like this around one of them, she could only imagine how bad she'd get with four others (Reñid refused to speak to the twins and Tïllin anymore, let alone hang out with them in the twins' house; Evin was able to at least tolerate her presence now).

When the tray was full, Sam put it in the oven, careful to leave the wooden handle sticking out so it wouldn't burn. When she returned to her bowl, she noticed a line going through the batter that looked suspiciously like someone had swiped a finger through it. She raised an accusing eyebrow at Derak, who blinked innocently back as if to say, _"Who? Me? I wouldn't do something like that."_

"I thought you were supposed to wait," she said.

He caved slightly. "Well, it's nothing personal, but I was just testing to make sure it was safe. That way, if I keel over dead, the others'll know not to eat any of the cookies."

"Right. Thanks." Sam managed to look appropriately hurt. It was hard to keep the expression when it was obvious Derak was going to panic; he had no experience on how to comfort a person, let alone a woman he'd never seen crack a smile until several minutes before.

"A bit on the pathetic side, don't you think, Sam?" Tamara said chuckling. "A son of mine should know how to comfort a lady. I must say I'm ashamed."

"But, Mum!" Derak protested. "It isn't fair. I'm being ganged up on by two women. Both of which are much crueler than I could have possibly guessed! Well, maybe Mum but you, Sam! I never expected such treachery from you. This wounds me!" He staggered back, only to bump into his brother, who was entering the kitchen.

"Watch it," Gerrad growled. Derak turned to face him, only to have his brother start chortling. "By the gods, what happened to your head?" Tïllin and Freyhd had arrived by this point and were trying to peer around Gerrad's bulk. When Tïllin caught sight of Derak, he began snickering at the disgruntled expression on the other man's face.

"It seems that this woman has been deceiving us all along, brother," Derak announced. He glared briefly at Sam. "Underlying this stoic exterior is a cruel, cruel person."

"Shut your mouth, boy, you deserved it," Tamara said, slapping his head on her way to check on Sam's cookies. "They look nice, dear," she commented, eyes twinkling with amusement.

"What'd she do?" queried Tïllin. "Other than the obvious," he added with a grin.

"Well, she threw flour at me when I insulted her cooking, then slapped me when I tried to test her cookie batter."

"Poor baby," Gerrad said, not looking the least bit sympathetic.

"Not to mention the heart attack she almost gave me when she looked like she was about to cry!"

"Uh huh." Gerrad glanced at Sam, whose eyebrow was raised slightly at Derak.

"Tell them, Mum," Derak begged.

"What? That you were misbehaving and bothering this sweet, young lady?" Derak sighed; his mother obviously wasn't going to be any help. Neither was Sam, who never acted so…so…_playfully_; there was no way the guys'd believe she had a mischievous side unless they saw it for themselves. Therefore, he concluded, he was on his own.

"You will pay for this," he told Sam, who widened her eyes innocently.

"All I did was make cookies," she answered. As all the boys started to leave, she added, "Oh, and since you're not dead yet, I think my food is safe."

The array of expressions from the foursome was comical. In the end, though, they all filed out, looking bemused on some level, even Freyhd.

Sam really didn't know what was happening to herself. She was simply in an over-playful, happy mood. It was a huge step up from her last days at the SGC.

"I don't care what provoked this change," Tamara said quietly. "I'm just glad I get to see you act your age."

"Act my age," Sam repeated. "I-I'm thirty-eight. I think I should act a little more mature."

"By the gods, girl, don't you dare! I like seeing this side of you. Besides, it gives my boys a challenge. They're about your age. Thirty-seven. But Gerrad's already got a girl. Quiet lass she is. Derek, on the other hand, needs to settle down." She nudged Sam with a wink. "I think I'm not the only one who enjoyed your change in mood."

Sam suddenly felt the conversation take a turn into dangerous territory. Her initial goal had been to keep herself distant, but these people were so hard to mistrust and stay unattached to. As time went on, she found herself getting closer to Tamara, Derak, Tïllin, Gerrad, and even Freyhd. As much as she wanted to keep herself aloof, she found herself yearning for their friendship. It was something her plan couldn't afford.

If only she could remember why.

- oOoOoOo -

Sam waited until her cookies were done and on a large glass plate (because both of Tamara's boys were under Evin's command, they got fairly large wages and were able to afford glass items, instead of wood) before she went into the dining area where all they boys were sitting. Instead of setting the plate on the table, she took it over to her chair, sat down, and began eating one of her cookies.

"Hey! What about us?" Derak whined.

Sam pretended to ignore him, savoring the warm, doughy cookie and making sure she ate it very slowly.

His stomach rumbled, causing his ears to turn red. Sam's eyes flickered to the four boys' faces and back to the cookie. All of them, except for Derak, were looking at her like they didn't quite know what to do with her. Derak was simply glaring at her.

"Still worried about poison?" she asked him, a smirk tugging at the corners of her mouth.

"I don't care about any poison! Just give me a damn cookie," he pleaded.

"Now I know Tamara raised you better than that," she said. Tïllin managed to turn a strangled laugh into a cough.

"Fine," Derak grumbled. His face became the picture of childish innocence. "Sam, may I please have one of your deliciously wonderful, poison-free cookies?"

The table was round, so all Sam really had to do was set the plate in the center and the boys would be after the cookies like rabid animals. For the moment, however, it was interesting to watch them squirm in their seats and beg with their eyes.

Finally, mercifully, she put it in the center.

Derak was reaching even before the plate was down, but before he could grab any cookies, Tamara smacked his head. "That goes for all of you," she said, ignoring Derak's annoyed grumbles. "You'll spoil your appetites."

"Mm, I don't know, Tamara," Sam put in. "Think we should take pity on them? Maybe…one?"

Tamara cocked her head and pretended to deliberate for several seconds. "Oh, alright. They've been good sports." She smiled and went back into the kitchen.

Derak raised a wary eyebrow at Sam. "One? No catch?"

"Not that I know of" was the answer.

Derak jubilantly grabbed a cookie and promptly took a huge bite. The others were quick to follow suit.

"I apologize for insulting your cooking skills," he said. "You rival Mum when it comes to honey almond cookies."

"See if you get anymore," Tamara groused from the doorway.

Sam smiled reflexively at the whole scene. They were a big happy family. It was a nice change from her dark thoughts and dreams.

She didn't notice the stares she received, so enamored was she with a sensation she hadn't had the pleasure of experiencing in months.

Evin's arrival did manage to pull her from her musings. Even seeing him didn't kill her mood. His next words, however, did.

"Airda asked me to tell you she wishes to speak with you when you have finished dining with us."

* * *

_I think I had a little too much fun writing this chapter; it's my longest yet for this particular story. See, it's chapters like 5 & 7 that make me wonder if I really should be writing at 2:30 in the morning._

_I'll shut up so you can review or grab a Pepsi or finish watching that Papa Roach video or whatever it was you're doing before you started reading this._

**R&R**


	9. Chapter 8: 21 Guns

**Chapter 8**

Sam's good mood had completely evaporated the moment Evin said Airda. Her heart thudded painfully in her chest at the realization that Adria would probably have her people surrounding her, yet expect Sam to walk in with no one who would aid her if worst came to worst.

The upcoming situation returned her to her old depression. She ignored the way all but Evin were watching her with worried expressions.

She nodded tersely and ate the food Tamara had placed in front of her. She was careful to avoid glancing up and seeing the others' faces. Why should they care if she returned to her old ways?

A little voice in the back of her head was trying to tell her exactly why, but she tuned it out; she had to focus on Adria.

When she finished she took the plate in the kitchen, set it on the counter, dusted herself off, and left with a murmured farewell as she walked by.

Outside, she glared disdainfully at the sloping path that led to the Great Hall. It seemed to leer back at her, challenging her to attempt to walk up it. Seeing an easy way out, Sam took off her sandals and began striding purposefully toward her destination.

After a while, she "felt" someone behind her and, still a little paranoid from her earlier thoughts of Adria, whirled around, fists at the ready. No one was there. With an unladylike snort, she turned on her heel and continued.

Almost as soon as she crested the top on the hill, she heard a twig snap and this time held her ground when she "felt" the person getting closer. The sixth sense gained from twelve years of missions wasn't putting off too many warning bells, but she could never be too careful.

When a huge, ambling bulk came into view from the direction she had taken, she was already in a defensive position.

"Who are you?" she asked, trying to lace her voice with as much ice and authority as possible.

"Watch it!" protested a familiar voice: Derak. She breathed a quick sigh of relief. Perhaps she…might have someone on her side when she confronted Adria after all. "Don't do anything to me you might regret."

"Why are you following me?" Sam asked, simple curiosity erasing any accusation from her voice.

The silhouette shrugged. "Evin ordered me to." He sighed. "Look, we all know you're capable of defending yourself and the same goes for Airda…but, no offense, he wants me along to intervene in case…things get out of hand."

Sam's mouth twisted when she read the unsaid message. _"In case you attempt anything harmful toward 'Airda.'"_

"Right," she answered. "Well…let's go."

"Sam?" Derak began hesitantly, falling into step next to her. "What is it that makes you hate her so? What has she done to you?"

Sam decided to answer as truthfully as possible. If the meeting with Adria warranted further explanations, she would give them, but for now, she settled for the simplest thing she could say. "She belongs to a past life I've been trying to forget for months. What…what she did was bad enough. What she represents to me is even worse." If Sam were honest with herself, she might have also added how there were parts of Adria she saw reflected in herself as a result of both of _the_ missions.

"You know, if you have to…or, er, feel like…dammit." Sam could tell from his voice he felt really awkward with whatever he was trying to say. It was actually rather funny. Or would have been, since Sam was in no humorous mood. "Look, if you ever need to talk…you can come to me or Tïllin or even Freyhd. Mum would probably be the easiest for you to talk to, but the three of us aren't used to feeling helpless. And, when it comes down to it, we're pretty good listeners, _especially_ Freyhd."

Sam didn't know whether to feel touched or suspicious. Touched because the guys actually cared for her enough to offer the unthinkable (for guys anyway; all the ones Sam knew tended to shut down when she wanted to talk about herself). Suspicious because she didn't know for sure if they were being sincere. It didn't help that she couldn't tell if the apprehensive emotions she felt toward the guys was from her old barriers, or…not.

"I get it," she said, doing her best to not sound scornful; she knew how hard it probably was to say this to her. "And I appreciate it. Look, uh, if…if the conversation with Airda gets a little too personal for me…I'll do my best to explain to you. I understand how that wouldn't make much sense now, but it might later. Sorry I can't give you more than that."

There was no more time to say anything else, since they'd already gone through the Great Hall and were on their way to Adria's office. Torches dimly lit the hallway, but Sam thought she could see Derak's ears still twinged red from the conversation. The shadow of a smile flashed across her face in amusement. It seemed her good mood wasn't entirely gone.

Derak found the right door and they entered. Reñid hovered by the fireplace, obviously prepared to move if necessary. Adria was perched on the corner of her desk. Her eyes flashed when she saw who her visitors were. They flickered briefly to Derak, then back to Sam. "I must say I didn't expect your friend, Colonel Carter."

"Wow," smirked Sam wryly. "That's a step down from the all-knowing Orici."

"Yes," Adria agreed. "Morgan was quite thorough when it came to forcing me to descend. I didn't think she had it in her, but I guess I was wrong. Oh well. This makes for a much more interesting experience. It's odd how helpless we humans are. I suppose_ you_ feel all-powerful, but when you've experienced the feeling for yourself, humanity is a bit…sobering…I suppose. I will admit it's not pleasant."

"Why here?" Sam demanded. "Why me? Why couldn't you just _leave me in peace_?"

Adria laughed. It sounded like delicate chimes. Sam only wished Adria were so delicate. "Because," chuckled the former Orici, "that would be too easy. I want _revenge_ for what you did to me!"

"I hate to break it to you," Sam scowled, "but I wasn't too involved with what happened with the Ark. Cam and I were too busy dealing with…other problems." She shuddered, remembering the replicators and, worse yet, her promise to Derak. What would she tell him now? "It's thanks to Daniel, Teal'c, and your mother that you were supposed to be condemned to an eternal struggle."

"_Don't_ you dare bring up Mother," hissed Adria, leaning forward.

"I think I just did." Sam paused. "So why are you here? I know you want a position of power; why else would you have made up the whole story of being Rai-Lord Raimak's heir? But I don't understand why."

The anger faded from Adria's face, replaced by distinct smugness. "But that would spoil the game. That's the only reason you're here. As I said, I want revenge. You and Colonel Mitchell are simply going to be the first victims because you didn't play as large a part in the Ori's demise. To show my mercy, I am allowing you two to be the first to go and with less suffering."

"You bitch," growled Sam. "This isn't a game; this is…." She stopped and her eyes widened as she began to connect the dots. "'With less suffering.' Are you telling me you're the one responsible for Barrett's power trip?! _You're _the reason we-we…." She swallowed painfully. "You're the reason we went on those missions and you have the audacity to cause perfectly good people more pain than _any_ of us deserve." Her voice lowered, becoming husky. It slowly increased to a pained shout: "Of course! What am I saying? I'm talking to the person who _mass murdered_ billions of people just because a few ascended got off ON THEIR OWN DAMN POWER TRIP!!" She stepped carefully back to the door, ensuring Derak was in front of her. "Listen to me, Adria. You thought you were so clever with you little plan of revenge, but you picked the wrong woman to mess with. When I'm through with you…." She stopped, realizing she had one—and possibly a second—witness to this whole conversation. One misstep or poorly worded sentence would spell her death. Death would spoil her own revenge.

Instead of continuing, she felt her mouth curve into a malevolent grin and her eyes spark with a hatred so bright it overshadowed almost everything else. She shook her head and pulled Derak out.

What she didn't know, however, was how close to falling apart she had been. Now that she was away and storming down the Great Hall, she felt all the pain and rage and guilt and shame welling to the surface and threatening to drown her.

It had been Adria all along. Adria manipulating Barrett. Adria setting up the horrible missions. Adria, who was supposed to be locked in a battle with an Ancient. Adria, who set everything up for a _game_ of fucking _revenge_!

Outside the Great Hall, Sam took out her rage and pain on the wall. She was barely aware of Derak hovering nearby, feeling more helpless than ever. Nor was she aware of the tears that streamed down her face, much like the storm that was picking up.

"HOW _DARE_ SHE!!" Sam shrieked, slamming her fist into the wall. The feeling of bones cracking brought her back to reality; there was no pain. She fell to her knees, cradling the injured hand, and sobbing.

Slowly, she became aware of someone embracing her, stroking her shoulder, and murmuring nonsensical words of comfort in her ear. "Suffering," she breathed. "If how I feel about…about…is so bad, I don't even want to know what the others will go through."

"Shh," the other person—Sam couldn't remember his name for some reason—whispered. "Don't talk." She let her weight sag against him and simply _cried_.

Around them, the wind swirled and howled, heralding the arrival of an ominous storm. Rain slapped the ground, as well as tiny bits of hale.

Sam was completely oblivious, mourning the lost ones properly for the very first time.

* * *

_Okay, so I hope I didn't go overboard too much. Sam's obviously a bit OOC, but given how I think she would react to the missions, a bit of a character change is appropriate. No one's mentioned anything about her being OOC, but I wanted everyone to realize I'm very aware of how Sam—but really everyone else as well—has been altered. If anything, it fits the context of the story. Anywhoozles…_

**R&R**


	10. Chapter 9: New Divide

**A/N:**_ Just a quick warning: I hadn't slept in over twenty-four hours when I wrote this, so sorry if it rushes in a few spots. I tried to patch it up, but I don't know if what I did was good enough. Oh well._

* * *

**Chapter 9**

Sam was suddenly alert to the fact she was being carried. The carrier, whoever he was, was making sure to shield her as best as he could from the rain and wind.

"I'm not taking you back to the rest of the guys like this," he was saying. "I don't know how they'd react. It's better for it to just be me. Hm, well…I suppose I could take you to the bathhouse. It's warm and no one would be in there this time of night. I don't want you to get sick. Mum'd kill me point blank. Then she'd bring me back just to kill me again. Talk about tough love."

Sam was cold. She shivered and gripped his shirt with her left hand, the good one.

"You have a bit of a story to tell, too," he went on. "I won't force you to say anything. It's obviously a very painful subject to broach with you. But Tïllin, Freyhd, and I…we want to help. Tell any one of us, or even all of us, if that's what it takes. You have friends here. Sure it's a tough choice, but after what I heard, I've come to the conclusion that there isn't really much of a choice, is there?" This last bit was said to himself, yet projected loudly enough for Sam to hear. She wondered what, exactly, he meant.

"I'm sorry," she whispered, but whether it was to the man or the lost souls, she didn't know, nor did she stay conscious long enough to care.

- oOoOoOo -

Sam awoke to someone shaking her. She opened her eyes and saw two hazel orbs floating above her face. They blinked. "Sam?" He hesitated before adding, "Are you alright?"

"Yeah, Of cour…." She drifted off, memories of the time before she lost consciousness floating back into her hazy mind. "No," she amended. "Not really." She lifted her right hand to see it splinted and wrapped. "Thanks." Her eyes met Derak's again. "How long was I out?"

Derak shrugged. "Long enough for me to fix your hand. Nothing else's broken, but your arms, legs, and feet'll be sore for a bit. You'll probably have a headache, too. Weather like this, combined with the shivers, tends to do that to me and Gerrad, so I assume it'll be similar with you."

Sam nodded. She was debating whether or not she should tell her story now or not at all. She tried not to think of any pros or cons, instead focusing on what _felt_ right. She vaguely remembered what Derak had said about her having friends. Was it true? Were they genuinely willing to give her such a high honor?

Frowning, she studied Derak's eyes. Indeed, when they had first met, his eyes were very guarded. But now, now that she knew him better, she was able to see past his wall, to an extent. At this moment, she read honesty, concern, helplessness, and a true desire to understand her problems better.

But fear weighed her back. What would he do if she told him what she'd done? Or was it just an atrocity that seemed especially horrible to her mind? Could that be why none of her teammates were so badly affected?

"There were five of us," she said, before she realized what was happening.

"What?" Derak blurted, startled.

"About three years ago, my planet ran across a race called the Ori. The whole story is so long; I have to give you a cliff notes, ah, short version. Let's see, there're two types of ascended beings: the Ancients and the Ori. The Ancients pride themselves on not interfering with us lower life forms; while the Ori, as it turned out, made countless people worship them as gods to increase their power. One of the five of us had been trapped in the Ori's home galaxy and impregnated. She gave birth to a daughter, which she named Adria after her own mother.

"Adria was bent of conquering our galaxy and converting everyone to Origin. Otherwise, you'd die of a plague spread by Priors. It took us two years, but we cleansed the galaxy of Priors and condemned Adria to spend eternity fighting an Ancient we'd met before.

"After that, I left my planet for a year, but what happened there isn't…crucial to what happened back at the Hall. Once I returned, the five of us slipped into our routine again. Everything was back to…normal for us.

"Then a man I considered to be a good friend of mine…he somehow gained our leader's ear and my team and I soon noticed _he_ was the one really in control. I mean…whatever he wanted, he got because the Pres…our leader would automatically approve it. He's in charge of our whole nation and practically only a few people on a military base know about it." Sam shuddered at the thought.

"You understand military protocol. If you're given an order, then you follow through. No question, end of story. Well, we got an order telling us to test new military-grade weapons. We traveled to another planet—a planet full of happy, innocent people, Derak!—and successfully carried out our mission."

Derak sucked in a breath. "Everyone?"

Sam closed her eyes against another torrent of tears and nodded. She swallowed with some difficulty and continued, "Then he ordered us to another planet. No test…there wasn't even a real reason. The bastard just wanted to see if we'd follow through. For that mission, we all split up and were told to kill whoever got in our line of sight and wasn't one of _us_.

"The villagers had been forewarned because we found no one until we searched. Well, I searched a little too hard." Sam swallowed again and struggled to calm her breathing. This was the most difficult part; this was the part that left such a deep wound on her soul. "I found where they'd put the children. And…and…." The tears were flowing freely now, so she opened her eyes and stared blankly at the wall across the room. "I killed them all. Oh, God, I still hear their screams, see their faces, smell and feel the blood. It was a bloodbath, there were so many. And they didn't even fight back. Why didn't they fight back? No one in the 

village did!" Derak reached out awkwardly to pat her shoulder but she shrugged the hand off.

"I couldn't look anyone in the eye when we got back. Everywhere I looked, I saw those children's faces. Every time I nodded off, I'd relive every second. I stopped sleeping after that. Soon I had no choice but to sleep again, but the nightmares were _so vivid_!

"I stopped eating too. I just couldn't make myself eat. I felt so sick. After a while, I locked myself in my office and designed a program to get me off of the planet. The visions were real enough on their own without seeing my teammates every five seconds and drowning in the memories again.

"So I left. I traveled for weeks until I settled in a village at the edge of a forest. A kind old lady brought me in and cared for me. She forced me to eat some amount of food, no matter how small. I barely talked to her, but I appreciated her kindness.

"Then, one day, we were out picking herbs, when I was chased down by six men and taken away. I discovered that I was in a life or death situation. I wanted the death so badly. You can't imagine. But when we reached our destination, I was once again treated with kindness. It made me feel like there was hope. Then I was escorted to see the one in charge and he gave me life. I didn't know what to feel until he called his niece out. Adria, Adria, Adria." Each time she said the name, her left hand absently pounded the floor. "Seeing her instantly shattered what little faith I'd gained in those people. I swore not to get close to them, because I'd let something slip and it'd get back to Adria…or something. But, as I stayed there for a couple of months, I realized how hard it was to remain unattached."

"What happened next?" Derak asked, though Sam knew he knew the answer well enough.

She turned to face him dead in the eye. "I'm still figuring that part out." Then she smiled sadly. "Sorry I'm no storyteller. The whole story is too long. Just…fill in the gaps. I don't want to have to repeat it anymore than I have to."

"I see how hard it was for you," Derak acknowledged. "I think I understand why you acted the way you did when we first met. I'm just sorry you were treated so cruelly by Evin and Reñid."

"I-I don't think they can be trusted. At least not by me," Sam said. "They're too close to Adria for my liking. Did you see Reñid just standing there in her office?"

Derak nodded. "I'm not sure I understand everything, but at the very least, I agree that Reñid is too close to Evin's fiancée."

"Is It alright if I ask a question?"

Derak's brow furrowed. "Yes. What?"

"Can I trust you to keep everything I've said a secret?"

* * *

**R&R**


	11. Chapter 10: Never Too Late

**Chapter 10**

Derak blinked. "Sam…of course you can. You can trust us."

"I understand. But can I trust _you_ to keep my secrets until I want them to be revealed?" She'd had suspicions about his coming with her to meet Adria, especially after he'd told her he was ordered to. Still, some instinct had told her she could tell him. The same instinct that mistrusted what prompted his following. When they returned to Tamara's home, she would see if her instinct was correct.

"You have my word," he said. "I swear on…Mum's life!"

"Your mom's?!" exclaimed Sam, taking pity on his lame attempt at humor. "I don't think she'd appreciate that." She gave him a watery smile. "Thanks."

He nodded and glanced out the window. As if coming to some decision, he stood up and offered his hand. He said, "We'd better go…or I need to, at least. It's about three hours past midnight. Some prefer to bathe here at around four past."

Taking his hand and heaving herself up, Sam attempted a smirk. "And you know this how, exactly, Derak?"

"Well, you see," he began, winking, "back in my younger years there was a time when, believe it or not, Mum was one of those early risers. Ach, it was horrible when she cornered me or my brother and told us all the latest gossip." He grinned at her mock-annoyed expression. "Oh dear. Did you think I was going to say something else?" His face became the picture of innocence.

"Ass," she muttered, opening the door. She slipped out and tried to close it on Derak, but he was prepared and forced the door open again. Retreating, she took a deep breath. The cool night air felt so good after the hot and humid bathhouse.

"Get your mind out of the gutter."

"How can you start a conversation off like that and _not_ expect me to get the wrong impression?"

"Since your mind seems to be in the gutter, are you saying you want to hear 'bad' stories?" Tamara's home was barely visible in the darkness as they approached the crest of the hill.

"No, thank you. I might have to return the favor."

"Ah. I see your point. Truce, then?"

"Mm…sure." They were silent the rest of the way.

At the door, Sam braced herself. At least she wasn't walking in alone. In more ways than one. Derak wasn't repulsed by her (didn't even have much of a reaction, in fact), and what's more, he would be on her side against Adria because he understood now. It took a weight off her shoulders she hadn't known existed.

He opened the door at her sharp nod, and they walked in. All the guys were still awake and seated around the table. A loud debate was going on between Gerrad, Evin, and Tïllin, but the quickly quieted down when Freyhd simultaneously directed their attention to the two arrivals by kicking them under the table and gesturing with his head. Annoyed expressions rapidly changed to worried (Tïllin), inquiring (Gerrad), or bored (Evin).

Tïllin leaped up. "Where in the gods' names have you two been? You've been gone for _hours_."

"After the meeting, I sorta lost it outside the Great Hall. He hauled me off to cool down before I did any major damage," Sam explained before Derak could get a word in.

"That explains the hand, then," said Freyhd, his strangely colored eyes flashing. "You okay?"

"Um, well, I think I broke a couple of bones. I'll probably be a bit bruised, too." She yawned widely, suddenly hit with a wave of exhaustion. "I guess I should go to bed." The test of faith. Now she just had to stay awake long enough to see if her gamble paid off.

She headed toward the hallway, but paused in the entrance. Turning back, she silently asked Derak again if he would say anything.

He shook his head slightly, giving her a look that plainly said, _"Duh!"_

One side of her mouth curved into a slight smile of acknowledgement and she went to her room.

- x – X – x -

"What was that about?" Evin asked when Derak and Tïllin sat down.

"She told me why she and Airda don't get along," Derak reluctantly said, ignoring the question. He hadn't been untruthful when he'd told Sam the he'd been ordered to follow her. Only, Evin wanted information and thought that Derak would be the best way to get it.

He had been right, and now Derak was in a bind.

"Well?" said Evin impatiently. "Let's hear it."

The response was out before Derak quite realized what he was saying. _"No."_

"Ex-excuse me?"

Gerrad, Freyhd, and Tïllin froze as the room became almost unbearably tense.

"You can't possibly understand." Derak was reminded of how Airda was really Adria, Sam's enemy. Evin was in too deep with Adria to ever see the situation from Sam's side with a clear head.

"I gave you an order," Evin reminded him.

Anger sparked in Derak's chest for Sam. Everything had been instigated by Adria and, unwittingly, Sam had obeyed her cruel orders. He could see how much she regretted 

following them. He didn't want that to happen to him. "Sometimes, it's best not to comply with an order that will do more harm than good."

"What's that supposed to mean?" Evin asked, sensing Derak's turmoil behind the words.

"Ask your fiancée," Derak snapped.

How could they have been so blind? The woman was a monster. Come to think about it, it was too convenient how what Lord Raimak needed the most was an heir, and a young woman claiming to be his sister's daughter shows up on his doorstep. She had been clever, integrating herself among the right people so closely and carefully. When Lord Raimak died and Adria took his place, Derak knew that whatever followed would be very bad for them all, but especially Sam.

"You _will_ tell me," Evin snarled.

"Tell Airda that…that…it's too late. She had to chance to rule and she failed. She'll fail this time, too. Whatever she's planning. Now get out of this house."

Evin obeyed, his attractive face contorted in fury. He left without a protest only because a man was master in his own home; if he was told to leave, then he must do so and without complaint.

He was so furious, he didn't stop to think about the weight behind Derak's final message.

Inside the house, the guys were watching Derak in shock.

"You didn't have to do that," Sam said coming out from her hiding place in the shadowed hall.

Derak groaned, "I'm going to regret that conversation badly later."

"Take it from someone who knows: you did the right thing. It's good to see a gamble played off. I appreciate it."

Derak whirled to face her. "You knew about his order. How?"

"I know how _she_ works. I expected her to coerce Evin on Reñid into doing something, but I didn't know what and I certainly didn't think Evin would use you as a way to gain info," explained Sam softly.

"But you took the risk of telling me anyway. Why?"

"Instinct. The same that told me what Adria's plan was. You don't live they way I did for twelve years and not get a good instinct for things like that." She analyzed the remaining three carefully. "I need people who are going to be with me unconditionally. Raimak's heir is more dangerous than you could possibly imagine. If you're in too deep, or too loyal to her and Evin, then I suggest you leave, at the very least this room, now." No one moved. "Do you understand what I'm saying?" she demanded loudly. "What this could entail? If you're here to hear me out, then it isn't good enough. This is a black and white situation here, people. You're either with _her_ or with _me_! You can't have it both ways." Still no one moved.

Finally, the corners of her lips curved into a light smile. "Thank you. But now, I just wanna go to bed."

* * *

_Some of you may want to know about the new page break. The one with X's just means I switched people's perspectives. The one with O's is a time difference._

**R&R**


	12. Chapter 11: No More

**Chapter 11**

When Sam awoke the next morning, she couldn't figure out why she didn't feel tired. She sighed sleepily and rolled onto her back. Turning her head to the side, she absently watched the sun's shifting patterns on the floor. A fresh breeze blew in, cooling the air and rustling the leaves outside her window.

It was an all around serene place, but it never made Sam feel quite so refreshed.

She blinked, suddenly realizing the reason. For the first time in a long while, she hadn't had a single nightmare. She didn't know how to feel about it, but she didn't think it was bad. It was difficult to tell after being so broken for months on end.

Today she also had to tell some of the guys exactly what was going on. With her, with "Airda." She was a little nervous about how they would react. Derak believed her, but only because he'd been there during her encounter with Adria. At least he could second everything she said.

Knowing nothing was getting done by simply lying in bed, Sam heaved herself up and found a clean tunic and breeches. She quickly slipped them on and collided with Tïllin when she exited the room.

"In a little bit of a rush," he laughed, steadying her. "Tamara was getting worried and sent me to see if you were awake yet."

"What time is it?" Sam asked, furrowing her brow. It couldn't have been too late; there wouldn't have been any sunlight on the floor if it was past sun-high.

"Well, almost sun-high," Tïllin answered sheepishly. "It's Tamara, okay? She gets worried easily."

"Do I?" came a voice from the entrance the hallway. Sam smiled slightly when she saw Tamara standing there with her hands on her hips, glaring at Tïllin. "I don't think I was with you and my son, walking around like a beheaded chicken!" She rolled her eyes. "We both know this boy tends to exaggerate things. Don't pay him any mind. Would you like some lunch, Sam?"

Sam disengaged her arm from Tïllin, who still hadn't let go, and followed Tamara to the kitchen.

As she entered the main area, Derak jumped up from the table. Freyhd and Gerrad looked at him as if they were questioning his sanity, and remained seated. She nodded to them all and hurried to collect her food from the kitchen.

She sat down next to Freyhd, which was across from the other three. When she glanced over, she saw that Derak's ears were tinged red.

Tïllin was impatiently tapping his fingers on the table. "Well?" he finally burst out. "What's the big secret?"

Now that Sam was confronted about the impending discussion, she felt herself shying away. It suddenly felt like these people were strangers and she was going to tell them something hugely private.

"Please," begged Tïllin. "This bastard over here isn't talking, so someone has to." He glared at Derak.

Sam exhaled slowly. She decided to start off similarly to her conversation with Derak the previous night. "W-well, I think you can guess that I'm not exactly from around here. Neither is Airda. She's about as native to this place as I am. Our major difference is why we're here.

"I just wanted to live out a peaceful life away from…memories." She shuddered, lost in thought. She could almost hear the screams.

Something nudged her knee under the table. Reality flooded back. She shook herself. "Sorry. Airda, on the other hand, wants what she couldn't have before."

"Could you please elaborate?" Gerrad asked. Derak shot him a warning glance.

"Airda is one of the reminders I tried to escape. Look, I realize this isn't going to make much sense. You need the whole story, and that's something I just can't give you. When I knew her, she was called Adria and she was bent on mass converting billions of people to a religion in order to gain power. It was a join or die situation. My t-team and I…we managed to stop her, but…." Sam forced herself to stop talking for a moment. She was losing control, much as she had last night. "She's angry at us. I'm just the first of five." She bit her lip. If she kept talking, she knew she was going to either burst into furious, hysterical tears or start wrecking something. Possibly even both. "Derak," she said. "Please."

"Adria manipulated Sam's people into doing pretty bad things. Finally, Sam left, but…I think that was also part of Adria's plan." Derak was obviously out of his depth, but he was doing his best to make sense of everything and find a way to communicate it to the others. "Anyway, Adria has something in mind to—" He froze.

Puzzled, Sam stopped moving as well. She quickly understood what had alerted Derak: knocking at the door.

"We expecting anybody?" he asked.

Tamara, from the hallway, shook her head. She went to answer the door. A low voice spoke, followed by Tamara's high, clear pitch.

"They came straight home!" Tamara suddenly shouted. Sam flinched; she'd never heard the older woman sound so furious. "I'm not sure I like what's being implied."

A guard barged in. As one, everyone at the table shot up and gathered together with Sam and Derak at the back. "Unfortunately, Miss Tamara, it's not about what you like," the guard said apologetically. Two more guards strode in. "We have orders."

"Orders for what?" Tïllin hissed defensively. "I'm vice-captain. I have a right to know what's going on among Evin's men."

"We're here to arrest Derak Farrinsson and Colonel Carter."

"Why?" Freyhd asked.

"The assassination of Lord Raimak." Sam knew her jaw wasn't the only one to drop in shock. Raimak dead? "There are two witnesses who saw you going to Raimak's chambers last night. They say you had no business with either Lady Airda or Lord Raimak, and therefore had no reason to be in the immediate vicinity."

"Whoa, whoa, wait," protested Derak. "Every single one of us was sitting at this table when Evin came in and said Sam had to meet with Airda. I myself was ordered by Evin to go with her."

"I can second that," Tïllin said. Sam took a moment to be amazed at the amount of seriousness and authority he was exhibiting.

This was Adria's game, was it? Mentally torment Sam for awhile, then kill her. That couldn't be all though, could it? Why Derak, too? Very little made sense and Sam wasn't in a good position to think about how she was put in this predicament.

"Please, Vice-Captain," the guard said, averting his eyes. "Or be arrested as a conspirator against Lord Raimak."

"What?!" Tïllin snarled, eyes blazing in outrage.

"Tïllin, don't," Sam ordered, stepping out from behind Freyhd and Gerrad. "Don't do this. Just trust me, okay?" Tïllin's head inclined very slightly. He was rigid with tension at having so little power and inability to fully comprehend everything. "Come on Derak. Let's not cause any more trouble." She walked over to the guards and one restrained her hands behind her back. Another did the same with Derak, who had obediently come forward. They were marched out.

Derak leaned over and put his mouth close to Sam's ear. "I seriously hope you have a plan," he breathed.

"Never do and I've made it this far," she shot back. It was true. She hoped that her luck would hold once more.

"Silence, please," the main spokesperson said. It was clear he hated his job at the moment.

Sam's lips lifted into a smile that more represented a snarl. For the first time in months, she felt her old will returning. She could do this. She would get Derak and herself out of this situation.

Adria had done the impossible. She sought to break Sam's spirit and she had so very nearly succeeded. But something had changed in the course of a few tense minutes.

Sam was getting tired of having her life disrupted. _Was _a quiet life too much to ask for? She certainly didn't think so, and Adria's meddling was beginning to _really _piss her off.

Colonel Sam Carter was back, and she had every intention of getting rid of Adria for good.

* * *

**R&R**


	13. Chapter 12: The Pretender

**Chapter 12**

"What now, Walter?" Landry asked, reclining in his chair. The aforementioned sergeant peeked hesitantly peeked around the corner. "If Colonel Mitchell was here, I'm sure you would have heard it in the control room," he added dryly.

Walter laughed sheepishly and came in. He swallowed nervously and began sputtering out a bunch of ahs, ums, ers, and sirs.

"Slow it down, Walter, and spit it out. I can't make heads or tails of what you're saying."

"Ah, well, sir…some of the other technicians and I were talking amongst ourselves. We, um, ah—" He froze, catching himself. "We've been wondering exactly what it was that happened off world with SG-1. All of us know it wasn't good, but they're so tight-lipped about it, and then Colonel Carter just _left_ without any warning."

"You don't wanna know," Landry sighed heavily. "And even if you did, it's _top_ secret. As for why Colonel Carter left, she didn't get around to writing a report and her teammates are adamant she barely spoke when she got back. Whatever happened is between her and that planet." Walter shifted nervously, looking like he wanted to say something. "Yes?"

"What about her team?"

"What _about_ her team?" Landry pressed. He had an idea about where the conversation was headed, but he wanted Walter to ask a straight question first.

"Well, th-they…I guess I was interested in an exclamation for their behavior." At Landry's inquiring stare, he went on, "What I mean is…was what happened really so bad? When they came back the second time, Colonel Mitchell looked a little like Colonel Carter did after the first mission. Doctor Jackson looked like someone had just died, not to mention Vala was almost in tears."

"Unfortunately, there's not much that can remedy what happened, Walter, and there's no denying what happened was bad. But the order came straight from the president himself." Landry conveniently left out the fact that _he_ only agreed to the order because of blackmail against his family. The two colonels had found themselves in similar positions.

"Surely the president wouldn't order something so bad that _Colonel Carter_ would have to leave!" Walter protested.

Landry slowly sat up, wishing he could tell Walter exactly what was going on in that oval office. He and SG-1 had agreed that most of what _they_ knew was best kept quiet. By now, though, the entire base knew that something had changed in D.C. but the general and SG-1 weren't saying much. "Are you sure?" he asked, deciding it was a safe enough answer.

Walter opened his mouth, but couldn't think of a response. He shut it again and blinked quizzically at Landry instead. "What's going on, sir?"

"When I find the answer, Walter, everyone will know."

- x –X - x -

Cam exited the elevators and strode purposely toward Landry's office door. However, when he put his hand on the knob, something made him hesitate. He began to wonder why he even tried anymore. What was the point of bothering Landry? The general had promised to make Cam the first to know if Sam had been found after all.

Besides, it sounded like Landry had company anyway.

With a sigh, Cam retreated back to Sam's lab as fast as he could manage. It was empty, so he invited himself in and locked the door.

Nothing was making sense to him anymore. He felt like he was drowning in a mass of confusion.

Not the least of which was the puzzle of Teal'c. Since before the first unforgivable mission, Teal'c had been acting strange. It wasn't in any immediately obvious ways, but became noticeable after a period of time. It was difficult for Cam to think it out, but the sense of _wrongness_ was still lodged in his gut. The feeling came when Teal'c spoke—the wording was just a little abnormal—or if he got a simple fact just slightly wrong. At first, Cam put it down to the guilt he knew Jackson, Vala, and definitely Sam had felt. But the whole thing had been going on too long and Cam was worried. What was wrong with his Jaffa friend?

He also couldn't get past how callous and apathetic Jackson and Vala were starting to be about Sam. He was often told he needed to let go because Sam wasn't going to be found unless she wanted to be. Only more subtly. And with a little impatience.

They both had simply seemed to have forgotten all about the old camaraderie.

Every time SG-1 went into the briefing room, he felt a horrible tension descend upon them all, as they awaited the next assignment. All four of them just waiting for the day when they would have to go on another mission to kill dozens of innocent people.

His brow wrinkled as a thought wormed its way to the fore of his mind. Why had they done it? Killed all those people. SG-1 used to have a track record for knowing when to disobey orders they knew were morally wrong. What was so different about the orders they received from Barrett?

Then there was still the question of what happened to siphon the life from Sam. What made her flinch from the very sight of those closest to her?

Cam rubbed his eyes and sighed heavily. Ever since Barrett took over, it was a domino effect. One thing after another kept going wrong and forcing to overstep his equilibrium.

His world was unraveling at its heart and he was clueless on how to stop it.

- x – X – x –

Captain Patrick Kerry walked steadily down the hall, marveling at how easily his presence made people immediately hug the wall to avoid him.

Even though he was not a small man, he knew it wasn't him everyone sidestepped.

His brows drew together in annoyance. He wished Barrett would get on with his damn plan so Kerry could see his own face whenever he looked in the mirror. Unfortunately, as Barrett constantly reminded him, other things had to fall into place before the next step in their plan could commence.

Rounding a corner, he caught sight of Colonel Mitchell's retreating back as he rushed for the elevator. Kerry rolled his eyes. The idiot had probably just been in Landry's office to check for information on his lost teammate. It was pathetic the way he kept pining after a memory. Carter was gone and it was doubtful she would _ever_ return.

He paused at Landry's office door. He heard one voice talking, stopping every so often. Good. Landry was on the phone. Maybe Barrett was calling in with Step Two? Collecting himself, he went in as Landry was hanging up his red phone. The general was looking a bit sick.

Kerry closed the door and stood before Landry's desk, hands behind his back, an eyebrow raised in questioning.

Landry took a moment to close his eyes. When he opened them, they met Kerry's face steadily. "I think," he said, resigned, "that it's time to call SG-1 in for another briefing."

"The news does not sound pleasant," Kerry ventured. It was hard to keep the hopefulness out of his voice. It was beginning to look like Barrett had indeed called in Step Two.

- x - X - x –

Sam's phone rang, jerking Cam briefly out of his dismal thoughts. "Ah, hello?" he said, putting it to his ear.

"Hey, Mitchell."

"Jackson. What's up?"

"Landry wants us in the briefing room. He didn't sound happy."

"Not good," conceded Cam, wondering what had happened now. Was it possible he'd received bad news about Sam? His heart thudded painfully. He prayed his second-in-command has alright and that this wasn't about her. "Alright," he said, keeping his voice neutral. "I'll be there in a few minutes."

- oOoOoOo -

Everyone was quietly seated around the table when Cam arrived. He took his own seat next to Jackson and watched Landry expectantly. "What's going on?" he asked.

"I just received orders from Washington," began Landry reluctantly. Cam's stomach dropped. He already knew what the new orders would be. "SG-1 is to travel to P4X-395 and test—"

"I don't think so," Cam snapped.

"I'm sorry, colonel, but what the president says, goes."

"This mission is three too many," Cam vehemently spat. "I'm tired of-of wiping people out who've done absolutely nothing wrong." Inspiration struck him. "What if I spoke to the president about this? Not just over the phone. I want to find out what's really going on in Washington."

"I do not believe that is a prudent course of action, Colonel Mitchell," interjected Teal'c.

"Well, _I_ don't believe it's prudent to kill a bunch of innocent human beings who've done absolutely nothing to us."

"I think Teal'c has a point," Jackson murmured regretfully.

"Not you too—"

"Hear me out, Cam," pleaded Jackson. "We don't know what's _in_ Washington. It's probably very dangerous to go waltzing in and contradicting the most powerful man in the country. Barrett isn't going to let us get away with that without some sort of retaliation."

"Whoa, whoa, wait a sec. You're telling me you'd rather go around murdering other human beings than contracting the man who gave you the order in the first place," Cam blinked incredulously.

"I didn't exactly say that," Jackson backtracked.

"You as good as." Cam was shocked. When he read the reports, Jackson was more often than not the voice of reason in a military world of shoot first, ask later. When did he take on the violent mantle? Things like this were making his world come apart just that much faster.

He hadn't signed up for this. He hadn't taken control of SG-1 to lead them all on missions to exterminate the inhabitants of other planets. The whole thing was becoming ridiculous.

With a groan, he put his head in his hands. "What's happening to us?" he murmured.

"I agree with Cameron."

Cam blinked and looked up across the table at Vala.

She gave him a watery smile. "I for one am tired of killing. We're becoming no better than the Goa'uld…and the Ori. Any leader who becomes weak enough to listen to the whispers of another is no leader at all. We need to do something to end this. I don't think I can take much more before I have to up and leave, too." She grimaced. "I joined you people because I thought I would finally have a chance to do some good for this galaxy. I was tired of hurting those around me and the SGC gave a…oh, I don't know…a sort of second try. I could actually _help_ people. But now…." She drifted off, plainly upset.

Cam felt hope start to flicker in his heart as he recognized his own reasoning embedded in Vala's speech.

He twiddled his fingers under the table as silence descended in the briefing room. Would Landry postpone the mission? Cam wasn't sure he would be able to go through with it if Landry didn't.

"I'm sorry," the general finally said, his voice husky with remorse. Cam glanced around the table. Vala's eyes were closed as she struggled to pull herself together. Jackson was merely frozen with indecision. But it was Teal'c's reaction that perplexed Cam. The Jaffa's eyes flashed with emotion that Cam couldn't place, but wasn't anger or sadness. He frowned slightly as Landry finished, "I can't let you go to Washington, nor can I postpone the mission without serious consequences. I need you four ready to go by 0800 tomorrow."

Cam didn't say anything, but merely shook his head slightly and left. As he saw it, there were three courses of action.

One, he could go through with the mission and wound himself even more deeply than he was now. This aspect wasn't appealing, since the whole idea made him nauseated.

Two, he could go home and ignore the order. From there, he could either face punishment, or he could leave the SGC behind for good. Cam didn't feel that going home was the best course of action, but leaving would definitely be on his list when the time came.

Three, he could covertly go to Washington against his leader's orders. Somehow, he knew this was what he had to do. Something in the capital called him. It was hard to ignore, now that the idea was in his mind.

He was in the middle of wondering if he should involve the team or go solo when he suddenly recognized the look he'd seen in Teal'c's eyes. The revelation filled him was a sickening dread and made his stomach clench in horror.

There was no way. Absolutely no way he could be right. Teal'c wasn't that kind of person. And yet Cam was sure of what he'd seen. He leaned against the wall shaking his head in denial, feeling the last threads of his world falling apart.

The look he'd seen was triumphant glee.

* * *

_Oh my! What could this mean? Talk about a plot twist._

_Oh, and here's something slightly off topic (only slightly):_

_I initially had my own plans about Sam and if she'd end up with somebody, and who. But it seems my particular selection hasn't even been thought of by readers. Then again, the story hasn't exactly gone in the direction I'd planned, either._

_I guess I just want to know who you think she should end up with, so I can work it in if I have to. If not, you'll just have to live with whoever it is and not complain…much._

**R&R**


End file.
